Parking Spots and Shampoo Bottles
by Nazmuko
Summary: Clone!fic. There's a new girl in Jonathan's school. This is a story about how their relationship develops from awkward friendship to something more, one step at a time. Jack's clone/Sam's clone
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**Rating:** T

**Genre: **Friendship, Romance

**Pairing:** Jonathan O'Neill (Jack's clone)/OC (Sam's clone)

**Length: **15k+

**Summary: **Clone!fic. There's a new girl in Jonathan's school and there's something very familiar about her. This is a story about how their relationship develops from awkward friendship to something more.

**Timeline: **This story takes place about a year after Fragile Balance (7x03)

**Spoilers: **Major ones for Fragile Balance, bits and pieces from there forward

**A/N:** Hi everyone! I'm working on a bigger writing project but found myself in a dead end and decided to write a oneshot which got out of hand like all my projects do and now this story consists of 12 chapters (1000-1900 words each) which are already written. As usual, I'm panicked that this story is not good enough so I think this time I'll do something new and update daily so I don't have time to rewrite everything.

This is a clone!fic so it's kindasorta Sam/Jack except not at all because it's actually Liz/Jonathan. There are tons of fics out there with the same base idea so this is nothing new but please give it a chance because I really love the way it flows.

I have to warn you, though, that this story is like a collection of all the things I know nothing about (including US school system) so there might be some errors with the facts.

Written in first person, from Jonathan's perspective.

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

"Hey," comes a feminine voice next to me and I glance at her quickly.

"Hey," I reply and keep reading my book. I have a presentation tomorrow and I'm determined to get the best possible grade out of it. I'm not in the mood to start talking with strangers.

The girl sits down on the other side of the table and I wonder what the hell she's doing. I've never seen her before, I would remember if I had. She's hard to miss. She's dressed in a black skirt that is way too short, torn fishnet stockings, a corset style black top that has leather decorations, and a short black leather jacket. Her hair is short and black with bright pink and green highlights. Yeah, I would definitely remember if I'd seen her before.

"Advanced physics?" she asks and I mumble something incomprehensible. If she's here to pick up a fight, I'm not going to help her.

"You need help with that?" she asks instead of mocking me and I raise my eyes to really look at her. For the first time I look past the black and neon and the layer of make up. There's something familiar about her.

"Do I know you?" I ask with a little frown. Maybe I've seen her in a cafe or something, somewhere where she has worn a uniform instead of her own clothes. There's something so- And then she smiles.

"Shit!" I yelp and my pen drops on my notes, rolls to the table and falls on the floor.

"Hi," she says with that all too familiar smile and offers her hand to me. "I'm Liz."

"What the hell were you thinking!" I groan at her and see the laughter sparkling in her deep blue eyes.

"Technically it wasn't me but her," she replies.

"Technically you two were the same person at that point."

"Do you have a place where we could talk in private, Jonathan?" she raises her eyebrows and I shake my head to get rid of this nightmare slash daydream but she's still here.

"My apartment is around the corner," I sigh and pack the book and the notes in my backpack but I never remember to pick up the pen.

We walk in silence. A couple of my class mates whistle after us and for the first time I realize she's quite a looker. Not just the clothes but her body, too. And suddenly I feel like a pedophile again. That's the hardest part of this all, actually. My mind is almost fifty years old yet the body is seventeen and the people I hang out with expect me to be interested in seventeen year old girls but it just doesn't feel right.

"Do you have beer?" she asks as soon as I open the door and let her in.

"Yes, but I'm only serving coffee today."

I load the coffee maker, take out two clean cups and some milk. She's sitting on my couch when I turn around.

"What's with the outfit?" I ask when I finally sit down next to her.

She shrugs. "I figured I could have more fun the second time around."

"So what exactly are you planning to do, huh? Party hard and fail all your classes? I just can't see that."

"Nah... I'm planning to be the bitchy girl in the back of the class and _still_ ace all my classes. Just to confuse the shit out of teachers."

"Well, good luck with that. I'm actually planning to be the good boy this time around. I'm not going to slip back to my trouble-maker role just to suit you."

"Puh-leeze! You think I'm doing this to fit in what I thought to be your world? No. First time around... My Dad was quite strict. Oh, I did a few things here and there but mostly I was just the good, quiet girl who did everything right. This time I'm doing things my way. I'm not gonna throw away my education but I think I know enough already that I can get away with having some fun on the side."

"And your idea of fun consists of..."

"Oh, I was planning to steal the principal's car and sleep with everyone on the football team."

"Not at the same time, I hope," I ask and get up to get us our coffees.

"Oh, that depends," she says with an icky sweet voice that tells me she's just joking. I'm pretty sure the thought about sex in a teenager body scares her as much as it scares me. I really hate the thought of losing my virginity for the second time. Wasn't one embarrassing enough?

I bring her the coffee, two sugars and a splash of milk, just the way she likes it. The smile she gives me is warm and familiar, far from the rebelling teenager she pretends to be.

"Where are you staying?" I ask.

"I have a truck. Nice and comfy. Spacious. And I joined the gym so I shower there."

"You live in your car?" I raise my eyebrows, asking if she's serious.

"Yeah," she replies with a little shrug. "We've had worse."

"Right," I sigh and scratch my head for a moment. "You're staying here tonight," I tell her. "I don't know if that was your plan all along but you're staying here."

"No," she shakes hear head with a smile. "I won't. I'm not here to... to seduce you. I'm not trying to jump into your life. I just... Hell, I don't know. I just wanted to introduce myself."

"Then why the hell did you let yourself be cloned and roll into the same high school with me if it wasn't for me, huh?" I raise my voice a little, still pissed that she would do something like that. Carter is supposed to be much smarter than that. Much smarter.

"It _was_ for you," she answers, calm and collected and I can sense an explanation coming again. But at least this time it won't be technobabble. Even though I kinda miss her technobabble.

"It killed her, to think you're here alone. She thought it would be easier if you have someone who's in the same situation, someone who understands the problems you face. But I'm not here to... to fulfill her dream, I'm not here to be the chance they never got. I'm here to make my own life, just like you're trying to make yours. I'm here as a friend. If me being here is too much of a reminder of the past, I can just leave."

"No," I shake my head. "She was right. It would help to have someone in the same situation. I never would have asked them, asked her, to do it, but in a way... I appreciate the gesture."

She nods and continues. "I loved him," she gets straight to the point and I flinch a little. "She still does. It's confusing. But I'm not her anymore. And you're not him. You've made your own life here for the past year and I've made my own, too."

"How long?"

"How long have I existed?" she asks and I nod. "Six months. She bought me the truck. I took a road trip from Springs to here."

"It doesn't take six months to drive through the states."

"I had some thinking to do. Life to build. I knew it would be a mess if I just beam in here right away."

"So we'll start with a clean slate?"

"As much as it's possible, yes," she nods.

"Alright," I sigh and close my eyes for a moment, wondering what my next move will be. "Friends?" I ask and offer my hand to her.

"Friends," she confirms with a brilliant smile and a firm handshake.

"Here's my spare key," I say as I pick the thing from the chaos basket on the coffee table. "If you want to shower when the gym's closed, if you want to cook something other than MREs, if you need a place to store your things. Mi casa es su casa, huh? I'm actually paying for two parking spots so number eighteen is all yours if you need it. I used it for the trailer but it's in a warehouse now."

She raises her eyebrows at me and hesitates to take the key.

"You don't have to take it," I reassure her. "But I think friends are supposed to help homeless friends, huh?"

"Alright," she finally sighs and takes the key. "No promises but I can keep the key. And I do have money to get my own place, I just haven't gotten to that part yet."

"Sure."

"I should go. I have a class in fifteen minutes."

"Which class?"

"Advanced math."

"Yeah, I'll walk with you."

She raises her eyebrows at me but all I can do is shrug. I'm not him. I don't pretend to be stupid, I am who I am. It's so funny that this time around she's the one who's playing a role. Except in a way she's not. At least she's not pretending anything to me, and that's good. But I do have a hunch she's gonna get me in some serious trouble at some point.

* * *

**A/N:** That's chapter 1 for you! Let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N:** Thank you all for the reviews! I fixed the flat to apartment, thank you for pointing it out!

Liz won't be as much of a trouble maker as it first seems, I guess I just wanted to make the difference between Sam and Liz clear before I start bringing out the softer sides.

* * *

**CHAPTER 2**

We have a few classes together, here and there. It turns out Liz doesn't even need to be bitchy to get on the teachers' nerves, apparently the way she dresses is enough. Over the next few weeks I notice she takes it up a notch every time she gets harassed at school by teachers.

The top of it all is when she's accused of cheating in a physics test. She's asked to walk in front of the class and repeat the answers. The teacher still accuses her of cheating when she tells her the same answers again. Liz rolls her eyes and I can see a few other people in the class also think the teacher is being unreasonable.

When the teacher threatens to take her to the principal's office if she doesn't tell how she cheated, she rolls her eyes one more time, then swings herself into a handstand against the cupboard and, with her eyes closed, explains the basics of quantum physics in three and a half minutes, not the dummed down version but the accurate terms, before she gets back to her feet. I'm grateful she's wearing mini shorts instead of her normal mini skirt today.

"You got any other evidence than the color of my hair, miss Mathews?" she asks with that icky sweet tone again and smile so wide it can only be fake.

"I think we can drop the issue this time, miss Smith."

"I thought so, too," she mumbles and walks back to her seat behind me. The class gets up and gives her a standing ovation and after few attempts to silence the class, the teacher gives up and walks out of the room.

I turn around to high five Liz and she smiles that familiar smile, the one that seems to be reserved for me only.

"Come on," I say when people start to leave the room. "I'm buying you ice cream."

She raises her eyebrows but follows me anyway.

I can see people are confused by the two of us. We seem to be too different to be friends. But that's OK, neither of us really cares about other people's opinions.

I have a group of guys I hang out with but I wouldn't go as far as calling them my friends. I've noticed Liz has spent a lot of time with one girl, I think her name is Jessica, and they seem to be getting along quite well but other than that, she's not very social, either.

We walk to our favorite cafe and I order two of the biggest sundaes they have.

"Are you trying to make me fat," she asks and bumps my shoulder with hers as we walk to what has somehow become our table over the last few weeks.

I've seen her car parked at my parking lot a few times and I know she's used my kitchen and bathroom a few times and there are some of her clothes in one of the drawers but she never comes when I'm there, we always hang out somewhere else. This place is one of our favorites but we end up in the library almost as often.

"You'll work it off at the gym anyway," I say with a shrug. "I, on the other hand... I might be in trouble soon." We've spent way too many evenings scooped up somewhere with coffee and ice cream or sometimes pizza.

"I know you go running, Jonathan."

"Yeah? And how do you know that, huh? Been stalking me?" I ask with laughter in my voice. Of course she knows. In the end I don't even care how she knows things about me.

"I live at your parking lot, remember?" She takes a huge spoonful of ice cream and ends up smearing her upper lip while trying to fit it in her mouth. I smile at her when she tries to wipe it off without smearing her lipstick.

"What?" she asks when I've stared a little too long.

"Oh, I just... realized I've never seen you without make-up." I don't say it but we both know I'm thinking about the fact that I never saw Carter _with_ make-up, at least not a strong one like Liz wears. And once again I wonder how much of her style is really about what she wants and how much is trying to make a difference to the person she's not anymore. It doesn't really matter, because it's working anyway. I don't see Carter when I look at her, I see Liz. There are similarities but they're also very different.

"Maybe I should go running with you some day then, huh?" she says with a teasing smile but I can see a hint of pain in her eyes, too. We're not supposed to talk about them.

"I'd like that," I reply honestly and obviously she wasn't expecting that because the fake cheerfulness melts away and all that's left is a grateful little smile.

* * *

The next Tuesday I get home from school, toss my backpack in the corner with my jacket and make my way to the bathroom to take a leak. When I turn on the lights, I scream like a little girl.

"Don't worry!" Liz's voice comes from the living room and I almost scream again because she's never been here before when I get home. "It's hair dye!" she continues. "Not a science experiment."

I curse under my breath and lock the door behind me when I empty my bladder. There are black stains everywhere. In the sink, in the mirror, even on the walls. It's a mess.

I'm about to give her a lecture about cleaning up after herself but the words get stuck in my throat when I see her sitting on the floor, wearing sweats and a tank top, an old towel on her shoulders and her hair covered in purplish goo.

"There's coffee," she says without raising her eyes from her science magazine. "And I bought donuts. To apologize for the mess. But I'll clean up afterward, don't worry."

"Oh. Thanks," I mumble and grab myself a cup and a chocolate donut. I'm feeling very much like an awkward 17-year-old right now as I sit on the couch but then she smiles and then it's OK again.

Liz is not wearing any make-up and she looks so... _young_. And innocent somehow but I know she's far from that. I understand that her clothes and make-up have been bit of a mask and it means a lot to me that she lets me see her without them but I have no idea how to put that feeling to words so I just smile back and hope that she gets it.

She rinses her hair and then spends fifteen minutes rubbing my bathroom with bleach before she joins me on the couch.

By that time I've managed to throw together a decent meal of mac and cheese and she accepts a bowl without questions.

"I heard miss Mathews got stuck in her office today," I say when we've been eating in silence for a while.

"She did?"

"Yeah. Some kind of unexpected malfunction with the electric locks. It took them an hour to get her out of there."

"That's horrible," she says but her voice holds no emotion whatsoever. I'm watching her face carefully but I can't see any sign of guilt, either. But still... I just can't believe it was an accident.

"You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with it, right?" I finally ask and she just shrugs with a little, innocent smile.

"Jonathan," she sighs and smiles a different smile, one that looks almost dangerous. "What you don't know can't hurt you."

For the first time I realize how dangerous she can be. She's a bored genius, for crying out loud. I just hope she doesn't decide to bug my apartment or something. Because I wouldn't even notice if she did. I make a promise to myself that I'll do my very best not to anger her, ever. Then I quickly change the subject.

We split the last doughnut for dessert and then she leaves again.

I see her truck in spot eighteen when I close the blinds that night. I wave at her and she turns the headlights on for a second and then off again.

_Goodnight_.

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**A/N:** Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N:** This story is not a flawless, perfectly in character master piece, just a little something that came to me and refused to leave. I'm terrified because you guys have _expectations_ for me and my stories. I'm not... that's not... Yeah...

So I'm panicked and terrified and want to delete the whole thing and write it again and then never show it to anyone but I promised you daily updates so you'll get daily updates and I'll do my best not to rewrite this whole thing, just fix a few sentences here and there. I will try to reply to your reviews and questions at some point and explain a few things.

As for this chapter, I have no idea where it came from.

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

It's Friday afternoon the next week when my doorbell rings and I make my way there, a little confused about who it could be. A quick look through the peep hole tells me it's Liz. I just assumed she would use her own key but then again, she has never come here so that I'm already home.

I take a second look and realize her mascara is smudged on her cheeks.

"Hey," I say softly when I open the door. "You OK?" I ask and she nods, obviously fighting the tears again. I raise my eyebrows and she takes a deep breath, preparing to explain and I have a hunch she's not quite sure if she wants to be here but she has nowhere else to go.

"I'm menstruating," she says and I do my best not to blush. "I'm planning to lounge on your couch and be a hysterical bitch all evening."

"Sure," I say with a nod and open the door to let her in. She hesitates for a second before she marches to the couch and pulls the chocolate out of her backpack and spreads them on the coffee table. I don't think I've ever seen that much chocolate in one place that wasn't selling it.

"I've got ice cream?" I offer and point towards the tiny freezer. "Cookie dough."

"Yes, please," she sighs and slumps against the couch, looking just plain miserable.

I divide the ice cream in two cups and sit down next to her. She looks a little nauseous to be honest but she wolfs down the ice cream.

"Have you tried pain killers?" I finally asks even though it might result in me getting my head bitten off.

"I did. No help," she mumbles with her eyes closed.

"Are you always in this much pain?"

"Nowadays? Yes. I was on the pill before but..." She leaves the sentence unfinished and heaves a sigh, then reaches for a chocolate bar.

"Come here, I have an idea." I finally say and she glares at me. "You did say your plan was to be a complete bitch all evening so don't hold back for my sake. But I have an idea that might help."

"I feel icky," she groans when I try to gesture her to come closer.

"I know," I sigh and take the lead. I grab a hold of her thighs and lift them on my lap. She's wearing black, skinny jeans today and I'm oddly grateful for that. "Come on," I sigh when she freezes. "Trust me, OK?"

She finally nods and relaxes, leaning her head on my shoulder. I start to massage the small of her back gently and she heaves a sigh. "Feels good?" I ask and she hums. I reach to take a snickers bar from the coffee table and give it to her.

I continue as long as my muscles let me, after that I just rest my palm against her back, hoping the heat will ease the pain a little. She feels so small and fragile now, here in my arms.

"You're a good friend, Jonathan," she mumbles against my shoulder.

"So are you, Lizzie."

She snorts.

"What?"

"Lizzie."

"No?" I ask, amused of her reaction. I know her official first name is Lisa but nobody calls her that. She explained she wanted to be called Liz, after her grandmother Elizabeth but didn't want to use that as her official name.

"You might get away with it as long as we're not in public," she answers after a moment of thinking.

"Alright," I agree. "I can live with that."

"Do you have food?"

"Not really, no. I was planning to go to grocery store but... Yeah. Pizza?"

"Sounds great."

She takes a shower while we wait for the pizza and leaves once we've eaten. It kills me to think she's sleeping alone in her car when she's feeling miserable but if that's what she wants, I won't stop her.

Pizza Fridays become bit of a habit after that. Every Friday she shows up, sometimes with a movie, sometimes with beer. I don't know where she gets it and I haven't bothered to ask either. We spend the evening on my couch, laughing and watching TV, eating pizza. She stays a little later every time but always leaves for the night.

One time she falls asleep against my shoulder and I tuck her in on the couch but she's gone when I wake up in the morning. Her car is not in the parking lot, either, and I just know she needs a little bit of space. That's how it seems to be with us. One step forward, two steps back.

I still don't know what we are. In a way we're dating but there's nothing romantic about it. We're friends, except we're a bit too worried about not doing anything to step over the boundaries.

She spends a lot of time with Jessica the next few weeks. Those two are an even odder pair than me and Liz. Jessica is bit like how I imagined Carter to be in high school, intelligent but shy, withdrawn. Liz confirms this to me one afternoon when we're sipping lattes and writing history essays in the library. It's actually the first time we spend time together since she fell asleep on my couch. We even skipped one pizza Friday. I've missed her, not that I'd ever admit that to her.

"She reminds me of myself," Liz says when I ask how come she and Jessica are such a good friends. "You know, on the first round."

"How so?"

"It's not my place to tell," she says with that smile that tells me there's a story there, a story that isn't as pretty as it should be. "She's a nice girl. She just needs someone to believe in her. And it's kinda nice to have a friend. I never had a best friend back in high school, you know. No one with whom to talk about boys or... Well, mostly about boys."

"So that's what you two are doing?" I ask with raised eyebrows. "Talking about boys? Every time you get together? How do you have enough material for those conversations! Wait, you didn't really put that football team plan into action, did you?"

She frowns for exactly two seconds before she remembers what I'm talking about. Her eyes widen and she hits me in the shoulder, hard, with her fist.

"Hey!" I yelp.

"No, I did not," she hisses but I can see she's not really angry. "Besides, how's _your _love life, Jonathan?"

"Oh, just peachy," I say. I raise my right hand and give her a little wave. "We're very happy together."

She rolls her eyes and blushes a little. "I didn't ask about your sex life, Jonathan. I asked about love life."

"Well I'm bit of an old-fashioned guy. I prefer to keep those two in the same packet," I say with a little shrug, doing my best to act nonchalant even though I'm fully serious this time. Liz looks at me, head tilted to the side like she's measuring me and I feel like I'm in a lie detector all of a sudden.

"That's a good principle," she finally agrees.

"Yup," I agree and scribble the next sentence to my essay and she gets back to hers, too.

"I'm sorry I freaked out," she says after a long silence.

"It's OK," I say. "But for the record, I like having you around." I smile at her and she smiles back and I know once again we're both wondering what the hell we are and what we want to be.

* * *

**A/N:** That's it. Bit random but... Yeah.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews. This chapter is bit darker than the last one and it also kinda stretched 100% from it's original length so don't get used to this, the next ones will probably be shorter.

* * *

The nights are getting colder already and I'm a little worried about Liz because as far as I know she still hasn't searched for a place for herself. But she's a grown up inside, it's not my job to tell her what to do. Sometimes I just can't help being a little protective of her.

It's Friday evening again, few minutes from ten o'clock, and I'm convinced we're not going to have pizza this week, either, when the doorbell rings.

I open the door with a wide smile but it soon fades when I find not only Liz, but also Jessica. At least I assume that's Jessica because her face is so bruised up it's hard to tell.

"Jonathan," Liz says firmly and I finally realize to step aside and let them in. Liz locks the door behind her and puts the chain on, too.

"What happened?" I ask, my gaze jumping between Jessica and Liz, hoping either one of them will explain. Liz looks at her friend and Jessica nods, giving her permission to explain.

"Her father lost it for the first and last time," Liz says, voice dripping with venom. "We filed for assault and asked for restrictive order but the police hasn't found him yet. Can we stay here tonight?"

"Sure, of course. It'll be little tight but no problem."

"Thanks," Liz says with a little smile. "Jessica will stay with her grandmother but she's out of town tonight."

The poor girl is obviously in shock. I'm surprised they let her leave the hospital. "Come on," I say and lead them further into my small apartment. "You go sit down, I'll get you something for that eye. And that lip." Her hair is a mess, too, from dried blood, but that's not a priority now.

Liz stays on the couch with her friend while I make us cups of hot chocolate. Jessica gets a straw into her cup. I've had a split lip enough many times to know drinking from a cup is painful. She's holding a bag of frozen vegetables on her eye and there's and once she's finished with the drink, an ice cube to her lip.

The girl is silent as she leans her head against Liz's shoulder.

"I can leave," I suggest at some point when I can't read if the silence is good or bad. "If you two want to talk."

Liz pulls me into the furthest corner of the kitchen and explains in whispers that there's a real threat the man might follow them here and she would appreciate if I stayed. I nod and pull my gun from the topmost shelf in the kitchen cupboard where it's been hidden behind empty beer bottles. Liz doesn't look surprised and I wonder where she hides her own.

"Give me your car keys," I say softly as I put the gun under waistband of my jeans, trying my best to hide it from Jessica's eyes. "I'll go get all your stuff here in case he decides to trash your car."

I don't know the man, I don't know what he's capable of, but it's better to prepare for worst than be surprised. Liz seems to agree because she gives the keys without questions.

"I'm gonna run her a bath," she says and nods towards Jessica. "Get her cleaned up."

For a brief second I don't see Liz in front of me but Carter who's taking care of Cassie. There's something... maternal about her right now, barely contained anger underneath the protective tenderness. She's not just a girl taking care of her best friend. I try to shake that image away.

"If she needs anything to sleep in, you know where to find some sweats and T-shirts, right?"

"Yeah," she nods.

Liz drags a chair into the bathroom and I wonder why at first but when I peek in, I notice she's placed its back against the sink. Good thinking. She's planning to wash the blood out of Jessica's hair before she lets her into the bathtub. I imagine taking a bath in blood red water wouldn't be exactly relaxing.

It takes two trips to the car to get everything. Luckily Liz is very organized so all I have to do is grab her bags, no packing needed. When I come inside after the first round, I knock on the bathroom door and let them know it's me. On the second time I tell them I'm done.

By the time they emerge from the bathroom, both in sweats and T-shirts, I've changed the sheets on the bed and pulled an old mattress in the middle of the living room floor. I offer to make sandwiches but they're not hungry and neither am I.

Jessica cries herself to sleep while Liz sits on the edge of the bed and strokes her hair gently. I sit on the couch, clenching and opening my fists, murderous thoughts racing in my head. I know I'm not the only one because the look Liz sends me is clearly saying _We know a hundred ways to kill him without being caught._

Eventually the girl falls asleep and Liz makes her way to the couch. Without saying a word she covers my hands with hers and forces me to unclench my fists. I take a deep breath, release it and try to calm down.

"How are you holding up?" I whisper once my own anger has faded a little.

"If I had a zat he'd be gone already," Liz whispers and leans her head against my shoulder.

"I know." I kiss her forehead gently. If I knew what he _looks_ like, he'd be gone already. "I'll come visit you in the prison every weekend," I whisper in her hair. I really would, but I'm saying it mainly to remind her not to do anything stupid. Guns are a lot easier to trace than zats.

"I know you will," she whispers back and I'm not sure if she got my point.

I make her a bed on the couch and get settled on the floor myself. Except neither of us is quite ready to fall asleep.

"I'll take the first watch," I finally whisper and she nods with a sad smile. We try so hard to be ourselves instead of them but the soldiers are still here, inside us. It's a little easier to accept in a situation like this, when it helps us protect a friend, but it still hurts.

I wonder if she's accepted it yet, let go of the fight that was once ours. I wonder if she still sees nightmares about Goa'ulds. But those are questions I can't ask her, not now, not ever.

"Wake me up when you get tired," Liz makes me promise and drifts to sleep.

Three hours later I give her the gun and let myself fall asleep.

The police call the next day and tell they have him in custody so it's safe for us to go and get Jessica's things. We drive her to her grandmother's place just outside the city and leave her there with a promise that she can call us if she needs anything.

Liz is silent all the way back to the city. We have lunch in some small diner but neither of us has a lot to say.

"When you said she reminds you of yourself..." I finally ask because I need to know. I already know they both lost their mothers at some point but I need to know how much of the rest is familiar, too.

Liz shakes her head. "My Dad only used words, _never_ fists. But the atmosphere was similar in many ways. Nothing was ever good enough and he was the only one who new what was good for me."

I nod and we finish our meals in silence. There's not much to say.

I know she's gonna leave again. Not completely, no. Though sometimes I wish she would because it scares me to think she's only staying here out of some twisted sense of duty when she really wants to be somewhere completely different.

"I need to think about a few things," she says when she picks up her suitcase from the living room floor and heads to the door. "I'll see you at school."

She doesn't come to pick up the rest of her bags before she speeds away so I know she won't go far. Actually I'm pretty sure she'll stay at least a few days with Jessica and her grandmother but I never ask her if that's true. For the first time I wonder if she'd want me to ask, to follow her. I hope not.

She still comes to my place when I'm not there. Food comes and goes in my fridge, the shampoo bottle she left in my shower gets emptier... Sometimes the dishes are still wet in the drying cupboard when I come home which means I only missed her by a few minutes but her car is never parked in spot eighteen anymore. I see her at school, sometimes we eat lunch together, but mostly we just change a few words in the hallways or in class.

I hear she stole the principal's car. Well actually that's not what I hear. I hear that the man has gotten so old that he can't even remember where he parked his car and called the police, blaming his car was stolen. But there are holes in that story.

First of all, the car was in the principal's parking spot when I came to school that day. Second, the security cameras were down for half an hour in the afternoon and third, the spot they found the car in, fifty yards away from where it should have been, belongs to miss Mathews. So even though the car was not stolen, at least according to the police, and I have _no_ evidence that it was Liz... I'm sure she somehow broke into the car and moved it fifty yards, probably just to see if she could do it.

I buy her a sundae in the cafe again because even though I don't agree with the stunt, it _is_ kinda impressive. I also give her a book of the hardest sudokus ever made, a subtle reminder that I would prefer if she used her genius brain to something that's not illegal. I also, not so subtly, tell her that the offer to visit her only stands for murder. Probably not a good thing to say in public but public seems to be all we have. She gives the book back to me two days later, every single puzzle solved.

Jessica's grandmother invites us for Sunday meal every week and that becomes the only place where I see Liz outside school for a while.

I like the old woman and I get the feeling that she sees through us somehow. She doesn't ask how two kids like us manage on our own, she just silently accepts the fact that we do. Despite that, every week she sends us home with enough food, bread and cakes to last until at least Wednesday, usually until the next Sunday.

I worry about Liz and I miss her presence in my life. The nights are really cold and I have no idea if she has a place to stay or not. We don't talk about things like that anymore. There's no anger between us so I know we'll drift closer at some point again. I just don't like being too far from her.

It becomes bit of a habit for me to make a bed on the couch every evening before I crawl to my own bed. I keep hoping one night she realizes it's too cold to live in her truck and comes to me, comes home. Every night I make the bed and every morning I roll it up and shove it in the closet because I know she comes at day and for some reason I don't want her to know.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews! You guys are amazing.

It seems I've gotten some of my confidence back. I apologize for not updating yesterday. My neighbor was singing karaoke for hours and he just couldn't hit the right notes so my laptop and I escaped to my friend's couch for the evening and I forgot she doesn't have wi-fi.

Oh, and remember what I said in last chapter about it being exceptionally long? Well... It seems this story is on steroids because this one stretched, too. We'll see what happens for the next ones. It seems I'm partially rewriting them. I haven't changed the plot, just adding little things.

* * *

**CHAPTER 5**

My eyes snap open the moment I hear the key turn in the lock. I glance at the clock and realize it's three in the morning. I would recognize those footsteps anywhere so instead of reaching for my gun, I close my eyes again to give Liz the privacy I know she prefers. I hear her stop in the middle of the room and I know she noticed the bed I made for her. But instead she walks to my small bed and crawls under the covers and pushes her face against my neck.

The tip of her nose is freezing.

"It's snowing," she mumbles.

"You promised to get a place before it gets too cold," I remind her.

"It didn't feel right," she mumbles and pushes herself a little tighter against me. I don't know what exactly she means and somehow I don't think she knows either.

"We could get a bigger apartment, you know," I suggest. "Two bedrooms, huge kitchen. Be roommates, you know. Like all the cool kids."

"Can we talk when I'm warm?" she mumbles, sounding annoyed.

"Yeah," I sigh and wrap my arm around her waist. Or at least what I assume to be her waist. "How many shirts are you wearing?" Her torso seems to be just a shapeless clump of fabric.

"Seven," she mumbles and I can hear she's almost asleep.

Seven. She says that in a matter-of-fact tone. _Of course I'm wearing seven shirts. What kind of question is that?_ I wonder how long she's needed seven shirts to make it through the night. And I wonder why the need to add an eighth one was the turning point, not fourth one.

"Of course you are," I sigh into her hair and drift to sleep.

I wake up every now and then when Liz sits up to take off one or two shirts before she gets under the covers again but I don't really register it until suddenly I feel her skin against my palm when I wrap my arm around her waist.

"Down to zero?" I mumble and she nods. I'm pretty sure she's still wearing a bra, though, but I don't dare to move my hand to confirm or deny that theory.

"Is that a problem?" she mumbles the question against my neck.

"Having a half naked girl in my bed is never a problem," I say, voice full of fake confidence but truth is that I'm freaking out a little, wondering what it means or if it's just basic survival.

She punches me in the shoulder but snuggles a little closer and I decide I can postpone the freaking out part until we're both fully awake.

When I wake up the next morning, Liz is already up, making coffee and omelets. She's wearing sweats and tank top again. That specific combination has somehow become her home uniform she wear every time we spend time at my place.

"I stole your secret recipe," she tells me and slides the omelet on the plate.

"You wasted what little beer I have for breakfast?" I ask but she knows I'm not really angry. Drinking beer isn't as much fun now. I get drunk from one or two. It's bit embarrassing and I just haven't bothered to find the time to practice my alcohol tolerance.

"I sure did," she says with a grin and gets her own plate that has been waiting next to the stove.

"So..." I finally start when we've been eating our breakfasts in silence for a while.

"So," she replies.

"Should we go apartment hunting?" I decide to cut to the chase right away.

"I don't think we need a big kitchen for making omelets and mac 'n cheese."

_We, _she says and gives me the impression that at least she's planning to move in with me.

"How about the part with two bedrooms? Or even one? We could get a bunk bed or something."

She shakes her head and I can feel my heart sinking again. She's leaving after all. She has nowhere to go and she chooses that over my place anyway.

"I'd like to stay here if you'll have me," Liz tells me and I raise my eyebrows. "I can sleep on the couch," she quickly continues, misreading my surprise for discomfort.

"Or you can sleep next to me if that's what you prefer," I tell her. My bed is tiny but we managed just fine last night. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

"We're not them," she says and stares into her coffee, swirling the spoon round and round.

I think sharing a bed is a very bad example of trying to live their lives instead of our own. I don't say that out loud, though, because I have a hunch she's thinking about something a bit more abstract.

"I know," I say instead. "I don't see Carter when I look at you." She lifts her gaze and stares for a moment, obviously trying to read my face to see if I'm lying or not. "I can read some of your expressions because I've seen them on her but I don't see _her. _I see you, my best friend." There are moments when I'm extremely aware of their connection but in general, I don't see Carter when I look at her, I don't think I'm spending time with Carter when I'm with Liz.

"Your _only_ friend," she reminds me with a little twinkle in her eyes.

"Hey, I had a good speech going here, Lizzie, don't ruin it."

She snorts at the nickname again and I can see she's wondering if it was a wise choice to allow me to use it.

"I apologize," she says. "Please continue. But be careful because it was starting to sound like a proposal."

I freak out a little and she chuckles at my shocked expression.

"I don't see him either," she tells me with soft voice when it becomes obvious I forgot what I was supposed to say.

"So why have you been running away from me?"

"Because," she says with a shrug and stops to search for the right words. "It's not about seeing as much as it is about... feeling."

I raise my eyebrows, hoping she gets the hint and explains. I have an idea what she might mean by that but I'm not completely sure.

"I guess I was afraid that... That what I feel was just a leftover from her and not real. I don't want to be attracted to you just because she's attracted to him."

"Maybe you're over analyzing it," I suggest and I can see the hurt flash in her eyes when she thinks I'm not taking her worries seriously so I continue quickly, before I have time to fully comprehend what I'm planning to say.

"I'm attracted to you because you're smart, funny, independent, willing to defend your friends, have crazy ideas, share my weird sense of humor and, lets face it, you're hot. Yes, the Colonel might be attracted to Carter for the same reasons. But I'm pretty sure I could find at least a million males on this planet who are attracted to someone because of a similar list of reasons. That doesn't mean I'm trying to live their life."

She stares at me with a blank expression and I raise my eyebrows at her, trying to let her know it's her time to speak now. "You think I'm hot?" she finally asks.

"Of that whole speech, _that's_ the only thing you... Yes, I think you're physically attractive."

"That's... nice. Unexpected but... nice."

"Unexpected? Have you _looked_ in the mirror lately?"

I've slowly gotten over the feeling like a pedophile part and with that out of the way, I have no trouble saying she's stunning. Well I guess I have _some_ troubles using that specific word because I didn't call her stunning, I called her hot but anyway.

Instead of answering, Liz just smiles a little and gets up. She takes her coffee cup with her and makes her way to the couch. For the first time I consider the option that she's feeling as awkward and insecure about her new body as I am about mine. But if that's true, she hides it pretty damn well.

"But you're probably right," she says when I sit down next to her a moment later. The way she says it makes me think there was a sentence or two before that one but she forgot to say those out loud. "About the attraction thing."

I nod. "So... What happens now?"

"I have no idea," Liz admits.

"We don't have to be anything more than friends. If that's what you want."

"It's not."

"Alright..."

"I guess I'm just scared," she admits. "I'm... I'm happy when I'm with you. But I'm terrified of what happens if we try dating and screw up. Most high school sweethearts split at some point, you know. I really don't want to lose you."

"I think we're a little more mature than most high school sweethearts," I remind her.

Liz's lips twist into an odd smirk and I frown, wondering if I said something funny.

"What?" I finally ask.

"Nothing. It's just... I don't usually compare but I just realized that you're actually acting more mature than the Colonel."

"Ah, yes..." I mumble, suddenly feeling a little awkward. "Or maybe I just hide my yo-yos better, huh?"

"Maybe you do," she admits with a beautiful smile.

"Alright," I sigh, deciding to change subject. "How about we try to date like other seventeen-year-olds, huh?"

"You mean make out behind the football stadium?" she asks, eyes twinkling.

"Well I personally preferred making out on the backseat of a car but in this case I was thinking more like a pizza and a movie date, home before eleven and an awkward goodnight kiss."

"Is that how they do it nowadays?" she raises her eyebrows, amused again and I wonder how much trouble she got in the first time around but it doesn't matter anymore because we're not them.

"I have no idea," I confess. "But I thought that would be appropriate. Of course we could dress up and go to the most expensive restaurant in the city and pretend to be teenagers pretending to be adults."

"Or we could just not pretend anything and enjoy the evening," Liz suggests.

"Ah, yes. That's one option, too."

She grins and I know it's a date.

"Let's just..." she starts and then frowns and I have a hunch she's not quite sure what she wants to say but she's determined to say it anyway. "Let's try not to think about it, OK? Just let things progress or not and... not worry about it, OK?"

"Sure. I can do that. Not worrying is my specialty."

She grins but doesn't say that's not quite true even though we both know it. To be accurate my specialty is not letting anyone _know_ I'm worrying. But I think it's close enough that it counts.

* * *

**A/N:** Like it says in the summary, one _step_ at a time. This one is a huge step and I admit it comes bit quickly but... that's the way they roll. Don't worry, we won't jump straight to happily ever after. Let me know if you're still with me!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N: **Thank you for the reviews and messages! They all mean a lot to me, even if I don't reply personally.

I'm sorry about the delay! I really thought I could get _this_ update online before the weekend and warn you that the next one might take a few days. I had a busy weekend with friends and family and couldn't find enough alone-time for editing. Real life is crazy right now so I might not be able to keep up the chapter/day.

Also, a couple of readers made me realize that I have thought about a lot of things and background information that I wasn't planning to write into the story. I'm trying to add bits and pieces of them now so editing is taking even more time.

Remember how I warned in the first chapter that this story is a collection of things I know nothing about? Well, I know nothing about dating or fancy restaurants yet I ended up writing a first date anyway. I hope it's not too cheesy. Oh, and for the sake of this story, let's pretend Jonathan got them a table with 10 hr notice, OK?

* * *

**CHAPTER 6**

Liz goes shopping with Jessica and I go alone. I have made a dinner reservation at one of the finest restaurants in the city. I even got a limousine to take us there, just to see the look on Liz's face.

I hate the fact that people can tell my age from my voice now. It took some reassuring to get a table reservation for two 17-year-olds but finally they agreed when I told we would be celebrating my girlfriend's birthday. A little white lie because Liz isn't my girlfriend and I have no idea what her birthday is, whether it's the same as Carter's or the day she came to exist, but those are small details.

Liz comes home at three o'clock and our table reservation is at seven. The limo will arrive quarter past six but she doesn't know that part yet. I give her the flowers as soon as she steps inside because it's quite useless to try to hide them in a one room apartment. She laughs and gives me a cute little curtsey before she puts them in the water.

"When is your birthday?" I ask her as she swirls around, picking her make up and various other cosmetic products from her suitcases. I really need to tell her to unpack soon because there's plenty of space in the closets and drawers but we're running out of floor.

"That depends," she mumbles and goes through what I assume to be an underwear bag. "Well actually it doesn't," she says a second later with a little frown and straightens up. "March eighteenth. That's the day when I came to exist and the day marked in my fake birth certificate."

"Alright," I say with a nod. "If they ask you tonight, it's sometime in November, OK? We're celebrating your eighteenth birthday."

"Alright. Anything else I need to lie about?"

"You're my girlfriend." I don't know if that's a lie or not but I think it counts as one since it's our first date.

"Alright. I can manage that," she says with a little smirk and once again I get that same feeling I had on the first day I saw her. _I'm gonna get in so much trouble because of this girl._

Her dress is a deep, dangerous red, bordering burgundy. The back is practically non-existent and it takes a moment before I manage to pick my chin from the floor. The dress is quite modest in the front but tight enough that it doesn't leave much for imagination. Her skin looks so pale against the red dress and the black hair.

Liz is wearing heels which makes her the same height with me because I have yet to have my last growing spurt.

She hands me a tie and pocket square that match her dress. My dark suit and white shirt feel bit lame in comparison but she looks at me like I'm the most handsome man on the planet as she fixes my tie and smiles. Liz is wearing a lot less make up than she normally does. She looks elegant but feminine and I can't help my eyes to be drawn to her red lips.

My phone beeps. "Our ride is here," I tell and Liz grabs her leather jacket and purse.

"That's quite a ride, Jonathan," she chuckles once we step outside and see the white limo.

"Only the best for my princess," I say with a bow and open the door for her. As soon as we're sitting down, her chuckles turn into giggles and the driver glances at us through the mirror. "We're good to go," I tell him and we head towards the restaurant.

We eat a three course meal where everything is delicious even though the only dish I can actually pronounce is the chocolate cake we share for dessert. We keep snatching food from each other's plates and probably break every rule there is about proper behavior in a fancy restaurant.

We drink coca cola from the crystal glasses but laugh like it's wine.

Her eyes are shining bright blue and her red lips look hypnotizing and I think this is the first time when I hear her laugh freely. I've heard her chuckle quite often, and odd giggle here and there... I've even heard her laugh at movies, but I haven't heard her laugh like that, completely unguarded. I really like that sound.

We're free, young and happy and everything is the way I planned it to be. It doesn't matter who we are, who we used to be, who we try not to be. We're just having fun, enjoying the company.

Liz shares a few stories about those six months between her departure from Springs and arrival here. She had a few jobs here and there along the road, burger flipping and waitering mainly. Enough to get some gas money. Money she didn't need because Carter gave her plenty before she sent her away but it was Liz's way of building her new life.

The look in her eyes changes when she tells me about Vegas and though she never says it out loud, I think she made a small fortune in the blackjack tables. I wonder how many fake IDs she has. Probably enough to get her anywhere she wants to go. More than ever before I appreciate the fact that she chose to come here.

I pay the dinner, tip the waiter generously and we head out with my hand on the small of Liz's back. Her leather jacket is short and there's a patch of skin that's covered by neither the dress nor the jacket. I spread my fingers to cover as much as I can, to keep her warm. She leans into me, ever so slightly, and I want to stretch these couple of hours to last forever.

We don't head home right away because Liz wants to take a walk in the park. I talk her into switching jackets at some point because she needs something longer, something that warms her back as well. She gets my suit coat which looks great on her, just like everything else does, too. I get the leather jacket that's a little tight in the shoulders for me. Liz laughs so hard that she has to stop and lean into a tree for support when she doubles over.

I give her my hand and help her standing again. I try to give her a hug but I notice I can't move my arms in front of me so in the end they stick to the sides while Liz wraps her arms around my waist and giggles into my neck.

"_Let's pretend it's wine," _she whispered to me when we were eating the starters and raised our glasses for the first time. I try to count how many glasses of coke we had because I swear I feel a little tipsy.

We stay there, awkwardly hugging in the middle of the park, for a while. "For the warmth," Liz whispers against my chest and I'm not gonna tell her to keep walking.

Soon, however, the chilly air of the late evening forces us to _move_ to stay warm. The snow had already melted by the time we woke up in the morning and tonight is a lot warmer but still too cold for hanging out in the park without winter clothes.

I wrap my arm around Liz's waist and she leans into me a little. We're the same height now so she can't really put her head on my shoulder but I can sense she wants to. We don't talk at all, just walk in silence, enjoying the cool night air and the silence of the park.

There's a new kind of peace about Liz right now. It probably won't last but I'm glad that even for one night, she seems content instead of restless. I wonder if I should ask her about the Springs and how everyone is doing. I don't want to know but I'm starting to realize that maybe she needs to tell me anyway. But now is not the time to worry about that.

Liz seems determined to walk all the way home. After the first mile, she takes off her heels and pulls a pair of flip-flops from her small purse. It's too cold to be walking barefoot but she's prepared. I love the way she looks, an elegant evening gown, light make-up and yellow flip-flops plus my black jacket on her shoulders. I'm not sure what she did to her hair tonight but somehow she managed to make the black and pink look adult instead of rebellious.

She looks absolutely amazing in the moonlight and I have to resist the urge to blurt out all the possible romantic movie cliches because I'm quite sure she would just laugh at me. The arm I have around her tightens a little, trying to get the message through without words, and she turns to look at me with a little smile and raised eyebrows. I shrug and she chuckles at me before her head comes to rest on my shoulder. Yeah, I think she got it.

In the end we only walk about halfway to our apartment before I insist on calling a cab because Liz is shivering too badly.

Liz takes a hot shower as soon as we get home and in fifteen minutes she turns from elegant to casual again. She comes out of the bathroom in sweatpants and a tank top, her hair wrapped in a towel, her make-up gone.

She gives me a goodnight kiss, just a little peck on the lips, and thanks me for a fun evening before she takes the bedroll from the closet and settles on the couch. I raise my eyebrows at her, a little surprised because I was really looking forward to cuddling with her. Nothing more, just cuddling.

"I'm not the kind of girl who sleeps with a guy after just one date," she tells me with her voice full of laughter but I can see it in her eyes she's a little worried about hurting my feelings. But I know she's talking about sleeping. She's not worried about me making a move on her, she just thinks sleeping in same bed is a bad idea. It probably is, to be honest.

"Of course not," I tell her with a little smile, hoping to reassure her. "But if you get cold, I'll be right over there, OK?" I point towards the bed in the corner and she nods before she turns her back to me and pulls the covers over her head.

"Don't even think about turning off the heat," she mumbles and I chuckle.

"Busted," I admit with a shrug. I hear Liz chuckle as I make my way to the bathroom. She's asleep by the time I've brushed my teeth and washed my face.

* * *

**A/N:** There you go. A little cloud of happiness in the middle of their complicated lives. Back to everyday life in the next chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**Spoilers: **Mild ones but anyway for season 8.

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews! And apologies for breaking my chapter/day promise. I have an important exam coming up so I'm trying to stay away from writing and editing for a few days. Emphasis on the TRYING.

* * *

**CHAPTER 7**

The whole holiday season is different from our routines. Even after Liz started to sleep the nights inside and not in the parking lot, we've never spent every minute of the day together. We have different classes at school, different exams and presentations and essays, different friends.

It takes a moment before we get our balance right with the increased amount of free time but soon we have some kind of routine going again. I go running every morning, Liz goes to the gym more days than not. She hangs out with Jessica and few other girls whose names I always forget. I play a little hockey with the boys a few evenings every week.

When we _are_ home together in the evenings, we try to come up with something to do other than stare at the TV. Sometimes we go to the movies. Every now and then I manage to convince her to come skating with me but Liz isn't a big fan of that. Sometimes we get into snowball fights when we're feeling especially childish and happy but the problem is that at some point we always start calculating trajectories and then we both get too good and end up wet and freezing. But that's kind of cool, too, because then we can spend the rest of the night on the couch with something warm to drink and dozens of blankets.

There's a lot of cuddling and frequent little kisses involved in our relationship but we're both still getting used to our bodies. A few times our kisses have turned into something a little more heated and evolved into a serious make-out session but either one of us always says stop before we start losing clothes. I admit we take a lot of cold showers.

Our sleeping arrangements are a little weird but I don't mind. Whoever gets tired first takes the bed and the other one gets the couch. Every now and then, though, we end up sleeping under the same blanket, either on the couch or in the bed, often by accident.

I'm still a little surprised we haven't managed to drive each other crazy yet because my apartment is small and Liz seems to be bit of a free soul. I wonder if Carter is the same or if this is purely a Liz feature.

I've never asked where she spent the nights when her car wasn't parked in front of my house because I bet she wouldn't answer.

_"Here and there,"_ she'd probably say and it's none of my business anyway. But I know she's gotten used to leaving when she wants to leave, not having anyone ask where she's been. Some days I catch her looking out the window like she's dreaming about being someplace else.

"You can go if you want," I whisper in her ear one day and wrap my arms around her from behind.

"Where?" she asks, sounding a little startled.

"Wherever it is you want to be."

"I kinda like it right here," she says and leans her back against my chest.

"Spending twenty-four-seven with me is a lot to ask from anyone. If you need your space for a day or two or however long, just go. I'm not going to hold you back."

"Do _you_ need your space?" she asks and to my surprise I can hear a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"Nope," I say and kiss her neck quickly. "I like my space best when you're in it."

She giggles but tilts her head so I can kiss her neck again. "You need better pick-up lines, Jonathan."

"But I'm not planning to pick up any other girls and you love my lousy pick-up lines," I remind her.

"Yes, that I do."

We stand there for a while, just watching out the window, both lost in our thoughts. It's snowing outside again but I fear it won't stay on the ground longer than two days this time either.

"Do you ever think about them?" Liz asks after few silent moments and I automatically know whom she means.

"Sometimes," I admit because it's useless to deny it.

"Yeah," Liz sighs. "I've been thinking about them a lot lately," she confesses. "It's probably the Christmas time. Makes you wonder. And believe in miracles."

"Like that he would finally gather up the courage to ask her out?" We're not supposed to think about them, especially not their love life. There are a lot of things we're not supposed to do but we do anyway.

"I don't think he'd ever do that," she say softly. "Not as long as they're working together."

"You're right," I have to admit. He would never risk her career, ever. "Maybe they found a way around it."

"Maybe," she sighs. "I just... I kinda want to call and ask how she's doing."

"Maybe you should, then."

She hesitates a little, wonders if it might get either of them in trouble. I pull a cell phone from the packed suitcase under the bed and give it to her.

"Untraceable," I reassure her.

"There's no such thing," she reminds me but takes the phone anyway with a sad little smile. We never talk about the fact that I'm always prepared to run if things get bad. We don't need to talk about it because I know she's the same.

I guess she makes a threat analysis and comes to a conclusion that the risk of someone tracing the call is minimal because she dials Carter's home number. We're sitting on the opposite sides of the kitchen table when Liz waits for her to pick up. I know she'll make her way to the bathroom if they start talking secrets. That's what she does when Jessica calls.

Then, all of a sudden, Liz's eyes widen and she hangs up the phone without saying a word.

"What?" I ask when she's just staring straight ahead. Then her lips start to curl into a smile and a few seconds later she's grinning.

"What?" I ask again.

"Carter's residence, General O'Neill speaking," she says.

"Seriously?"

"Uh-huh," she nods.

"Sweet." I don't know which I'm more surprised of, him making a general or the fact that he felt comfortable answering Carter's phone.

Liz gets up and makes her way around the table before she sits on my lap, straddling me. "I think they'll be just fine," she concludes, her lips so close I can feel them brushing mine as she speaks.

"Just fine," I agree but I can't help wondering what it's like for her to hear his voice again.

Her first kiss is a gentle one, the next has a little more determination in it and after that her kisses turn just plain desperate. Though I'm enjoying it, I know I need to stop this before it goes too far because there's something going on that I don't know about.

"Liz," I ask and nuzzle her cheek. "What is this?"

Instead of answering, she tries to find my lips again with hers. I turn away and put a hand on the back of her head, pulling her against my shoulder.

"Who are you kissing?" I whisper the big question in her ear. That's the one thing we both fear more than anything, that we're just surrogate objects for feelings that aren't our own.

Liz is silent and unnaturally still, but I can feel tears dropping on my shoulder. Christmas or not, that phone call was probably a bad idea. I thought it would give her closure but maybe I was wrong.

"You," she whispers but I don't believe her. I hate that I can't believe her.

"He was missing," she whispers in my ear again before I have time to reply. I can feel more tears dropping to my shoulder, wetting my T-shirt. "Well we knew where he was but we didn't know how to help him. When I left. He was gone when I left. I've been worrying."

"Why didn't you say anything?" I ask softly.

"You didn't want to know."

"I didn't want you worrying on your own, either," I remind her. I feel guilty because I knew something was bothering her but chose not to ask because - she's right - I didn't want to know. I would have listened, though, if she wanted to tell me. "What else?" I ask now because that can't be the only thing that changed during those six months between my departure and hers.

"Doesn't matter," she says and shakes her head. I'm glad that she's moving again because the whole frozen in one position -thing was starting to freak me out a little. "He's safe. Everything else I can live with. And he was at her place."

"You know that the most likely explanation to that is that she's hurt, right?"

"He wouldn't answer her phone if she was dead. Or in the infirmary."

"True," I admit. He would let it go to the voice mail and if it was important, like her brother, he might call back. Sometimes I get surprised how well Liz knows him. Or I guess it's about Carter knowing the Colonel.

"So she's there somewhere, in her house, she just wasn't standing close enough to the phone. I don't care if it's a team night or if she's passed out because of morphine she got for a broken leg. She's alive, he's alive. They'll be fine. Just fine." Liz pulls back a little and I let her. She looks at me and smiles, looking shy all of a sudden. "And I was kissing _you_," she tells me, softly but firmly.

"Why the desperation?"

"Not desperation. Enthusiasm. They'll be fine. I can let go now. I don't need to worry about them anymore."

"Ah..."

There's a new kind of presence in her eyes, like she's _here_ for the first time, completely focusing on this life and moment and not the past.

* * *

**A/N:** This is what I meant when I talked about layers that were in my head only. Originally I wasn't planning to address the events of the canon timeline at all but... I changed my mind. From the moment when I started to write this, I thought Liz came to exist while Jack was in the stasis pod in Antarctica. It's not really important to the plot but since it might help explain her character a little, I thought I should mention it.

I hope I made the right decision. I'm using the original air dates to match events with the school year and seasons used in this story, very roughly and with a bit of artistic liberties, so I'm aware of the fact that there might be errors.

Thank you for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

******Disclaimer: **All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story!

I apologize for the long wait. The exam went fine but the damn autumn darkness is getting to me and I've been pretty depressed lately so haven't been able to work on stories as much as I would have liked. For the last week I've been sleeping 12-18 hrs a day so... yeah.

I rewrote this chapter several times, that's another reason why it's late. Originally chapter 7 was Thanksgiving, 8 was the phone call and 9 was Christmas. I cut out the Thanksgiving chapter because it was irrelevant to the plot and because we don't celebrate it here in Finland so there was a big chance I got the facts wrong.

_Then_ I realized there are a few thoughts and feelings I could explain more organically in the Thanksgiving chapter and decided to rewrite it with more dept and put that as ch8 but it got too short so in the end I cut out half of it, combined it with the Christmas chapter and now it's bit of an odd mixture. And yes, I know I explain too much in these Author's Notes.

I would also like to warn you that I'm writing a little about the development of their physical relationship from now on, hope I'm not offending anyone with that. Don't worry, I'm staying within the rating.

* * *

**CHAPTER 8**

We spend the Thanksgiving with our new extended family, meaning Jessica and our surrogate Grandma. It was Grandma's idea and it sounded like a good one because we didn't really have any plans.

I was a little worried about Liz, though, because I can still remember how weird and painful the first _everything_ was in this new life and city but I just don't know how to ask her how she's coping. I practically skipped my first Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Well Thanksgiving wasn't so bad because somehow SG-1 always ended up getting stranded off-world around that time so there were no festivities or traditions to miss really. Of course I missed the conversations around the fire and the stars on alien planets but I missed those all the time, maybe I still do, so those feelings were nothing out of the ordinary.

The most painful memories about the holiday are so old that the Colonel had already managed to bury them in the back of his mind and lock them in a tight container. I don't touch those memories about happy families and laughter because they're not mine. I'm not going to rip open the wounds he had already managed to heal or at least cover in enough bandage that nobody notices, not even him.

Christmas is a whole different story but I'm determined to only worry about one holiday at a time.

Liz seemed to be fine with the idea of spending Thanksgiving with our new extended family. We talk about a lot of things but there are some questions that I prefer to keep inside my head. I don't want to ask how Liz is coping with the idea that the people and traditions she remembers aren't hers anymore. I don't want to put that thought in her head.

* * *

Our Thanksgiving is not a big celebration, just the four of us, but there's enough food for ten more. I'm pretty sure we don't even need the car to get home the next day because it's pretty much downhill from Grandma's place to ours so we can just roll home.

We're all thankful for surprisingly same types of things. Family is on to top of all our lists and I like the fact that none of us have the traditional nuclear family but we just ignore the general definitions of the word because we _are_ a family.

We're grateful for friends, because even though we don't have a lot of those either, the ones we have are even more important.

Liz says _home_ with a tone that tells me she means more than just a place where to sleep, she means a place where she belongs and the people who make that possible.

And though nobody says it out loud, I can sense the words _new beginning_ in the air as well.

The food is amazing, probably the best Thanksgiving dinner I've ever had but then again, that might be partly because of the company.

Grandma always treats us as adults and I appreciate that. She's also very good at avoiding questions about our past and families. I don't know why, maybe she already knows our cover stories or maybe she simply accepts the fact that we have secrets, but she doesn't ask questions I need to answer with a lie. She the only person to whom I haven't lied.

Out of us three teenagers, I admit that I'm the third wheel but that's OK. In a way I have slipped into the role of a protective big brother when it comes to Jessica. She finds it funny because according to official documents, I'm actually the youngest one of our trio. But I know she appreciates it anyway.

Yeah, we're a weird group but it works for some odd reason.

* * *

Once we survive the Thanksgiving, it's time to plan the Christmas. Grandma invites us over again but this time even Liz admits it's probably not a good idea.

Ever since Janet adopted Cassie, SG-1 spent Christmases with the Fraiser women whenever possible. We don't talk about that specifically because there's an unwritten rule between us that even though we might occasionally mention Carter and the Colonel, we never talk about the rest of them.

Though we don't mention names or specific events, we talk about the fact that there are too many memories, too many things that could make the holiday difficult so it's better to just stay home, just the two of us, in case there's a bigger meltdown. We both acknowledge the need to create new traditions and agree that we should start with private ones before we add people to it.

We do agree on the Christmas eve dinner, though, because we don't want to sulk at home all the time and, let's face it, Grandma is a great cook.

We decided not to buy any Christmas gifts for each other. We don't say why but I know we're both worried that we wouldn't buy gifts for _us_ but for them. It's sometimes hard to make the difference between things Liz likes about and things I know Carter likes about.

Liz did, however, make me a Christmas-light-thing of Homer Simpson, dressed as Santa Claus. She gave it to me a few days before Christmas eve. The thing is hanging above our couch and it dances - or more like sways - in time with music when we turn the radio on. Liz made it herself, from scratch which in this case means hundreds of LEDs and some kind of control system. That's how bored she is. But the thing is pretty awesome.

I planned to buy one of her favorite chocolate cakes to thank her but decided it's a little lame in comparison when she spent hours and hours making me a Christmas decoration. So I baked the damn cake myself. From scratch. In the end I bet it took me longer than it took Liz to create that complicated electronic masterpiece.

So in the morning of the Christmas Eve we sit on the couch, eating chocolate cake which turned out pretty decent even if I say so myself, under the blinking lights of Homer Simpson while the radio plays every annoying Christmas song we know. And it's alright, because it's us.

Though we don't officially buy gifts, we _do_ buy a bigger bed together. The new one is just a double because there's not enough space for a king size bed in our tiny apartment. We get it a few days before Christmas but keep all the pieces in the packages, against the kitchen wall, pretending they're not there.

We buy a little something for both Jessica and Grandma. In return we get a few wrapped gifts that I guess to be knitted socks and books, along with enough cookies to last for the next year.

It's midnight when we drive home from the dinner at Grandma's, both giggly from the amount of sugar we've had during the day. Grandma packed us enough leftovers that we don't need to cook before New Year's. When we get inside, Liz pushes me against the door and kisses me like she's never done before.

"What was that for?" I manage to ask when she finally breaks the kiss to breath and buries her face to my neck.

"Mistletoe," she mumbles, her lips moving against my skin and I do my best not to shiver.

"Yeah?" I manage to ask but it comes out a little broken when she starts kissing my neck.

"No," she admits and sucks a hickey just below my right ear. I'm sure my neck is full of lipstick smudges now but I don't even care. "Just Christmas." She pulls back and grins at me before she gets into the bathroom to get ready for bed. I lean against the door for a moment, trying to catch my breath and calm down.

She comes out wearing yoga pants and a tank top that's cut a little lower than her usual sleeping clothes. I raise my eyebrows at her but she just winks before she climbs in the bed. I change and brush my teeth before I climb in behind her. Somehow, ever since that phone call, we've ended up sleeping in the same bed practically every night.

Without saying a word, I return the favor and suck a hickey on the back of her neck. She moans softly and it takes a big chunk of my willpower to stop at one and not spend the rest of the night trying to hear that sound again. It takes a while but we fall asleep eventually.

* * *

I wake up on my back feeling a little weird and when I open my eyes, I realize that's because Liz is lying on top of me, her arms folded on my chest, her face mere inches from mine and she's staring at me intensely.

"It's not morning yet," I grunt and close my eyes.

"Oh, yes it is. It's _Christmas_ morning. And Santa brought us a _big_ packet."

"He did?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well then... We should probably check what it is, right?"

It takes us an hour to take the old bed apart, put the new bed together, put clean sheets in and get settled under the covers again. We opened the gifts we got from Grandma and Jessica as well, and put on our new woolen socks.

"Yup," I say and bounce a little. "Definitely better."

"Yep," she agrees and kisses me. "So, what's our plan?" she asks and gets settled against my shoulder again.

"We need a plan?"

"It's Christmas day."

"Plan is to have no plan at all. I don't know about you but I was planning to stay right here until I get hungry. After that... no idea." Well actually I _do_ have a plan but she already knows that.

We're planning to bake cookies, make a dinner, watch silly Christmas movies and go for a long walk. So I assume that when she asks about our plans, she means _apart_ from the plans we made earlier. Well I do have a private, secret plan and that is to make that sadness leave her eyes but I don't know if I can do that because I don't know where it came from. So I'm just planning to have fun and stay busy but not too busy.

She huffs and rolls on top of me again. I always expect to suffocate when she does that but she's so light it's not a problem at all. Well, at least not for breathing.

I raise my eyebrows in a silent question and she wiggles hers back.

"Is this the part where we take off our clothes, then panic and then spend the next two weeks trying to avoid each other in the 200 square foot apartment?" I ask.

"It's 400, actually. And I was kinda hoping to skip the panicking part."

"Go straight to the awkward?"

"There's no need to be awkward if we don't panic," she patiently explains me. "I just wanna see you," she whispers with an adorable, almost shy smile.

We end up spending the morning in bed, topless, in a completely non-erotic setting. Oh, there's touching but it's not... demanding anything. We're just chatting about all kinds of good and happy things while we let our hands wander gently, hesitantly.

I've come to realize Liz is just as insecure about her new body than I am about mine. She just hides it a lot better under all that make-up and witty words.

I like touching her. Her skin is smooth and pale and I can feel the goose pumps raising under my fingertips. She smiles at me and I realize that's a completely new smile, one I have _never_ seen before, on anyone. It's shy and warm and loving and I decide right then that it's my favorite smile of them all. The best part is that I can't see the sadness in her eyes when she smiles like that.

"Maybe we should make this our Christmas tradition, huh?" I suggest and I can feel her silent laughter vibrate against me.

"Maybe next year we'll put a mistletoe over the bed, huh?" Liz says and I can feel her eyebrows wiggling against my skin.

"Maybe," I agree and I can feel her humming against my skin like she's thinking of something but not quite sure yet if she should say it out loud.

"What?" I finally asks.

"Nothing," she says, all too innocently, but I just know she's cataloging that idea away for later use.

We haven't really talked about this whole thing between us. We don't have a name for what we are. I don't know if she's my girlfriend or roommate or friend with - well with _some_ - benefits or something else. But I like the way she says "maybe next year", like it's the most natural thing, like there's no other option about where she'll be in a year than sharing a bed with me.

* * *

**A/N:** Layers. Did you see it? Or was it too subtle a hint? I didn't want to spell it out for you so it's OK if you missed it.

Anyway, let me know what you think! I'll try to update soon but first I need to learn how to get out of bed every day.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews! They keep me going!

I've spent the week exercising and eating vitamins so I'm feeling a lot better than last week! Screw you winter, you can't bring me down!

According to my original sketch this story has 12 chapters so there aren't many left after this one. I am, however, rewriting the ending and that might affect to other chapters as well so I can't promise when you will get the next update. Also, I might not share one of those chapters, depends what I decide to focus on.

This chapter has some nudity and adult-ish themes (plus one nasty word) but I think it's still well within what the rating allows. Let me know if you disagree.

* * *

**CHAPTER 9**

New Year's Eve is the first time we actually get drunk with our school mates. We've had a few beers at home every now and then but we prefer to be the drivers in parties. But now... Well, it felt like a good idea when we decided to do it but the next morning isn't such a pleasant experience.

I wake up when someone pokes me in the side, hard.

"Hey!" I groan.

"Oh thank God," Liz mumbles underneath me and I try to raise my head to look at her but it hurts to move even that much. It seems like my head is resting on her breasts. Naked breasts, I soon realize. Not a bad place to be.

"Why did you poke me?" I have to ask but I keep my voice down because everything hurts, including loud voices.

"Just wanted to make sure it's you," she mumbles. "I didn't want to open my eyes to see whose bed I'm in." I should probably get worried or jealous right about now but I can't be bothered.

"Please tell me we didn't do anything stupid," I plead.

"I think getting drunk with a bunch of high school students is the very definition of stupid," she mumbles.

We lie quiet for a little longer until I finally decide I desperately need some water. It takes three tries but finally I manage to get up without feeling dizzy. I have to stop a few times on my way to the fridge because I feel like throwing up. I don't think I've ever had a hangover like this before.

I'm halfway to the kitchen before I even realize I'm naked but I really don't want to turn around, search for my clothes and try again. Besides, Liz seems to be in too much pain to even open her eyes. I open the fridge door and start picking water bottles, as many as we have.

"Bring me something frozen, too," Liz calls.

"Like what?"

"We got any peas there?"

"Why?"

"I think there's a hickey on my nipple. No, make that both. Hurts like hell."

I decide it's better not to comment and slowly start my way back to the bed with two bags of frozen peas, six bottles of water and one bottle of aspirin.

"Any other pains or aches?" I ask once I make my way back to the bed and sit down on the edge of the mattress.

"Feet hurt from high heels. But nothing sex induced if that's what you're worried about."

"Yes, well... I really can't remember much about last night." I decide it's better not to mention her neck is covered in hickeys, too. But then again, she probably knows that.

"I'm still wearing my panties. And I'm pretty sure we passed out before we did anything... new. Well _I_ passed out. And you wouldn't do anything while I'm unconscious."

"True," I admit and gulp down half a bottle of water. I watch Liz snatch her top which has landed on top of the lamp and wrap the pea bags in it before she wiggles them under the blanket and heaves a relieved sigh.

"Sorry about that," I mumble as I get under the covers and slump down, too.

"I'm pretty sure I wasn't complaining," she mumbles, sounding a little embarrassed, and takes the water bottle I'm holding out for her.

"I really don't remember enough to comment on that."

"Let's sleep," Liz suggests when she's gotten rid of most of the water in her bottle. "I'm not gonna talk until I get some pizza anyway."

Next time I wake up, Liz is throwing up in the bathroom. I put on my boxers, take a new bottle of water and make my way to her.

"Whiskey," she mumbles as soon as I open the bathroom door. "Who the hell brought whiskey?"

"I think that was Mike," I admit and grab her robe from the rack because she's kneeling on the floor, wearing just a lacy little thing that apparently tries to play the part of panties.

"Remind me to break his nose next time I see him," she groans and throws up again.

"Oh, I might do if myself," I mumble when I remember bits and pieces of the party. I place the robe on her shoulders and she manages to slide her arms in the sleeves.

Liz throws up one more time before she announces she's done and rinses her mouth. I carry her to the bed and bring her some juice. Apart from a headache I'm feeling almost OK so I munch a piece of dry toast and have a glass of juice while Liz dozes for a few more hours.

"I heard them talking about me," Liz mumbles and I lift my gaze from the newspaper I'm reading.

"Yeah?" Well that can't be good.

"Apparently I'm the cold bitch with the perfect tits," she mumbles, her eyes still closed, and I can't read her tone no matter how much I want to.

I wonder if pointing out they were right about the second part would make it worse or better.

"And apparently you're a lucky guy because you get to bang me every night. They also had a rather interesting fight about whether or not I wear lipstick in bed. And whether or not I would scream if they just bended me over the counter in the science lab and fucked me."

"Christ..." I mumble and make my way to the bed. I'm suddenly starting to understand why she wanted to get so drunk, so fast yesterday. And also why she was clinging to me more than usually. I sit on the edge of the bed, sensing she doesn't want me to cuddle against her right now. Her eyes are still closed.

"They're a bunch of horny teenagers, Liz."

"I don't think I want to wear girly clothes anymore," she whines and I really do feel sorry for her.

"You're sexy and way out of their league. They just need something to feed their imagination. You wear whatever the hell you want to wear and if they touch you, you kick their asses and rip their balls off and then call me and I'll go kill them."

She chuckles a little. "My knight in shiny armor."

"You don't need one but I'll be happy to fill the role anyway."

Liz finally opens her eyes and smiles at me a little.

"It's just one semester," I remind her. "Then we can go wherever we want to go."

"I can't go to the academy with you," she tells me and I raise my eyebrows. "It would be too complicated. And I'm not sure if my cover story is air tight enough."

"I'm not going to the academy," I tell her and now it's her turn to look surprised. "I've already been a soldier for one lifetime. I'm not gonna do it this time around."

"Then what are you going to do?" she asks, sounding confused about the fact that I could be anything other than a soldier.

"I was thinking rocket science," I tell her and she giggles at me but I can see the moment she realizes I might be serious.

"Really?"

"Yep. Aerospace engineering. I've flown planes for decades so I thought this time I'd actually find out what keeps them in the air."

She chuckles and smiles at me a little. She knows I know something about the tech, we all do, but I want to know everything. About planes and rockets and basically everything human-made that flies. Liz can fill me in on the alien counterparts if needed.

"What about you?" I ask and can't believe we haven't talked about this before.

"I was thinking teacher," she says. "Physics teacher."

"Cool." I don't know if that was her plan all along or if that idiot named Miss Mathews made her decide her new career but it doesn't really matter. She would be an excellent teacher. She has the skill to explain the most complicated things in layman's terms.

She smiles at me and I can see she's thinking about something.

"What?" I finally ask when she doesn't say anything.

"Can you imagine that? Us? Being... normal. Living in a suburb, going to work from nine to five." She scoots over to the other side of the bed and I take that as my cue to lay down next to her.

"Sure I can," I say as I get settled on my side and smile at her. "Or a nice little apartment somewhere. But we can be anything we want to be. We don't even need to plan that far ahead if you don't want to." Part of me wants to be young and carefree with her but at the same time I want to be with her until we're gray and old.

"I want to," she sighs and snuggles against my shoulder.

A weird feeling fills my every cell all of a sudden, the sudden realization that this might actually work, that this might be for forever, not just until next year.

There are so many things I want to say to her but they sound too cheesy even inside my head. I want to say I don't mind where I am or what I do as long as I have her. But that feels too much like setting a burden on her shoulders, tying her to me with guilt and that's the last thing I want to do.

Instead I tighten the arm around her a little and whisper if she's ever thought about how much havoc we could cause if we switched to the dark side. It makes her laugh and that was my main goal, but truth is, we really could be _anything_ we want. I got a lot of money when they dumped me here, Liz can count cards in blackjack tables... Money wouldn't be an issue. Hell, we wouldn't need to work for the rest of our lives if we didn't want to.

"We could be anything," I whisper against her temple.

"Let's start with the suburbs, huh?" Liz says and I realize that for the two of us, a normal life really would be the ultimate challenge.

"Can we get a dog?"

"Only if we get a cat, too."

I pretend to think about it for a moment like it was a difficult question. "Seems like a fair enough deal," I finally admit.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews! I've added a couple of chapters to this story and had to rewrite some stuff so that's why it's been a while since update again. I'm hoping to catch up a more regular update schedule from now on but I'm quite busy with life outside computer right now.

I'm not entirely sure if this chapter should be here or not. It's basically their first time. Somehow it felt important to mention it but I don't know if this is too detailed. I've cut down about 92% of the details already but still. In my opinion it is within the limits of rating T.

Like you might have noticed, I tend to balance between fluffy and serious chapters. This one is fluffy. I feel the need to tell you that, almost like a warning.

* * *

**CHAPTER 10**

I'm bit more than surprised when Liz suggest we go skating one Saturday morning. I knew she was up to something with that but I'm still surprised when she kicks my ass in my favorite game. I also acknowledge that my masculinity took bit of a blow but I'm not going to admit that to Liz.

"You've been practicing!" I yell at her when she's making some kind of victory dance in the other end of the small rink after yet another goal.

"I sure have!" She calls back and speeds my way. Instead of stopping, she only slows down slightly and slams into me, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. I wave a little but manage to stay standing despite the fact that the impact slides me several feet backwards.

She's practically beaming at me, her face flushed from the exercise and I'm pretty sure I have the same, silly expression on my face.

We've been playing for hours but I just can't beat her. I think somebody finally told her the secret, that hockey is just physics in the end, and now she's unstoppable. I skate better but she's a lot better in the making goals part.

Her arms move from around my torso to around my neck and then she's kissing me, right there in the middle of the ice. We don't usually kiss in public but I kinda that we _can_ now, there's nothing weird or wrong about it.

"You done with kicking my ass yet?" I ask her when we finally run out of breath and have to break the kiss.

"For now," she says and I know I need to drag the guys to the rink to practice with me.

"Home?" I ask and nuzzle her cheek. "I could use a cup of hot chocolate."

She leans in a little more and whispers in my ear: "I could use some naked cuddling."

"Well what are we waiting for then, huh?" I'm not entirely sure if she's serious but she might just be.

She giggles but lets go of me and starts to skate towards the bench where we left our shoes.

The sweat starts drying, or freezing, as soon as we sit down to take our skates off and by the time we've walked home we're both shivering.

"I'm taking a shower first," I announce once we get inside.

"What happened to you being a gentleman, Jonathan?" Liz asks, her voice shaking a little because of the cold. "Ladies first, huh?"

She's right. Of course she's right. "True," I sigh and start to take off my jacket. "You go first. I'll make you hot chocolate meanwhile."

"Or we could share," she says casually but when I look more carefully, I notice she's a bit nervous. It's not quite the lower-lip-between-her-teeth -nervous but her cheeks are quivering because she's struggling to keep up the smile.

"Sure," I answer and smile at her. She seems to appreciate the fact that I'm not wiggling my eyebrows or flirting with her.

We haven't actually seen each other naked yet. Usually when we end up losing some of our clothes, we're under the covers. Well there was that whole fiasco of Liz throwing up in the bathroom the morning after New Year's but that hardly counts. And technically she was wearing panties then.

We stand in the bathroom fully clothed, few feet between us, both smiling nervously and waiting for the other one to make the first move.

"You know we're being silly, right?" I ask her and she chuckles because she knows it's not an accusation, just a comment. Then she takes a hold of the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head, leaving just her sports bra. I follow her lead and get rid of my shirt, too, but then we both freeze again.

"This was probably a bad idea," I admit when I realize this will just get more awkward. Far from the romantic seduction I have been planning. Well plan might be a wrong word, more like thinking, playing with the idea.

"No," Liz says firmly and steps forward. "It was a great idea." She plants a gentle kiss on my lips before she starts to lower my sweatpants. "Unless you want to say stop."

"No," I manage to whisper and my hands find their way under the waistband of her pants, too. Touching is good. I can do touching. It's the looking that I'm a little uncomfortable with.

We slowly undress each other while embracing, keeping our eyes in each other's faces. We manage to make our way to the shower without stumbling which is an achievement considering we need to step into the tub, still keeping a hold of each other. The water is hot even though we don't really need to warm up anymore.

It's a little awkward at first but we manage to relax pretty soon. We wash each other, hands exploring the soapy skin, exchanging a few kisses in between. I don't know how far this will go and it doesn't really matter, either.

The moment one of us says stop, we stop. Until then... Well, I really like the sounds she makes when I take an extra moment to massage her scalp while washing her hair.

"You want me to turn it to cold or move this to the bed?" Liz whispers when we've both been washed from head to toe. It's pretty obvious that she's not planning to stop yet but I know if I say stop, it's alright.

"I'm voting for bed," I say honestly. "But your vote wins." It's her call, like always.

"Bed it is then," she says with a brilliant smile and leans in to kiss me one more time as she turns off the shower behind her back. I bury my hands in her short, wet hair. I like the way she looks here, in the shower, so fresh and innocent, pure somehow.

We don't stop in the bed, either. We say pause a few times when something makes either of us uncomfortable. I love that. We're both awkward and a little shy about our bodies and confused about how they react but we're also adult enough to say when something doesn't feel right.

It's far from perfect, very far. My hands are shaking so bad that Liz has to help with the condom because I can't even open the damn packet. We never get the rhythm quite right and when we try to kiss, our noses keep bumping together. That happens so many times I'm scared one of us will end up with a nosebleed.

But it's not bad, either. We're both quick learners and we know enough to make it as good as possible.

"You didn't hurt me," she whispers against my skin when I get back under the covers after getting rid of the condom.

"Good," I whisper and kiss the top of her head. I knew she was worried about pain. Apparently her _first _first time was rather traumatic. I promised her I wouldn't hurt her but I know she didn't really believe I could keep that promise.

I draw lazy patterns on her back with my fingertips and she heaves a sigh.

Her back is covered with freckles, a fact I only found out in the shower. I want to see them all, draw constellations on them with the tip of my tongue. But that's one of the things Liz cut short with a whispered _pause_ today. She wanted to face me. She said she wanted to see me and to touch me.

I didn't realize it then but I guess she also needed to make sure it's really me. I have a hunch that the guys' chat about raping her in the science lab traumatized her a little more than she's willing to admit.

"You OK?" I whisper when she's been silent for a long time. I'm not a big fan of talking after sex but I know she's not asleep yet.

"Just trying to resist the sudden urge to blurt out all kinds of icky sweet romantic cliches," she mumbles and I chuckle softly.

"Just go ahead," I say softly and nuzzle the top of her head. "I won't hold it against you."

Liz heaves a sigh and I can hear the wheels turning in her head. I can only imagine the thoughts that are rushing through her mind right now. I've got a few of those myself.

"I'm happy," she says firmly and with such emotion and determination that I just _know_ that's the conclusion of all her thoughts.

"So am I," I reply, hoping I managed to match her tone, hoping she knows how much I mean that.

"Can we grow old and senile together?" Liz whispers against my skin, so softly I hardly hear her.

"Of course we can," I answer and I can feel her smiling against my skin.

"Good," she sighs and I can feel her relaxing against me.

It's a proposal without a ring and the big words but that doesn't make it any less important.

I love her. I've never actually said it out loud and neither has she but I really do. Not because of Carter or the past they shared, but because she's Liz. She's young and innocent and carefree but at the same time she's an old soul, wise and calm with a hint of darkness and demons in her soul. She knows me better than anyone ever has. And despite that she's still here.

I like having her here, sharing this all with me. I love living in this small apartment with her, cooking and cleaning and grocery shopping and, you know, kissing and this other stuff. I like studying with her. We're pretty damn good at that, too. We both have our own ways of learning things and if one doesn't get something, the other one explains. We're an awesome team and there's just something so... _right_ about having her here, in my life.

"I like the way your car looks in my parking spot," I whisper against her hair because somehow seeing her car in spot eighteen has become the symbol of all this. As long as her truck is there, she's part of my life. I can feel her shaking against me with silent laughter and I'm pretty sure she doesn't get the sentiment behind the confession but that's OK.

"Oh, Jonathan," she heaves an exaggerated sigh and snuggles a little closer. "You're such a romantic."

* * *

**A/N:** That's it. Reviews would be amazing. I've added a few chapters between the old 11th and 12th so now it seems like the story will have at least 15 chapters.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews!

Originally I wasn't planning to do anything more about the comment mentioned in the New Year's Eve chapter. But then one review made me think maybe I should write something so once again I dove into the deep. Somehow I always end up writing about big and sensitive subjects.

There is violence (or more like the aftermath of violence) and some nasty words ahead.

* * *

**CHAPTER 11**

Things have been going great for the last few weeks. We've been busy with school projects and exams but despite that, things have been going well. Today was our last exam for a while and we scheduled a date in the cafe after school and promised to have a calm evening at home after that. I'm looking forward to that. And the whole weekend, to be honest.

We always meet in the corner of the parking lot because it's easier than trying to remember in which class rooms each one of us has our last class of the day.

"Liz?" I call out when I reach our meeting point. I'm two minutes late but Liz is usually a lot more patient than that.

"Liz?" I call a little louder and look around me. Something's off, I just know it.

"In here!" she calls back from somewhere behind the trees but I can't see her.

I walk further into the woods, surprised to find Liz holding down one of the football players. He's lying on his stomach, Liz sitting on the small of his back, his arm bent behind his back in a painful position.

"Liz?" I ask softly. Her back is towards me so I'm not quite sure what's going on. "What happened?"

"She's a crazy bitch, that's what happened!" the boy screams but Liz shuts him up by pushing his face further into the snow before she turns to look at me with raised eyebrows. Her nose is bleeding and it has stained the lower half of her face and even some of her neck. There are also scrapes, or more like gashes, on her left cheek.

"Christ," I sigh and the anger flares inside me. I take a step forward but Liz stops me with a glare. Alright, she's got it under control, I know that. But the son of a bitch _hurt_ her.

"I believe he was trying to test a theory," Liz says calmly and spits away some blood that has found its way to her mouth. "For the record, I didn't scream. He, however..." Liz bends the guy's arm a little higher until he lets out a strangled scream. "See?" she asks me and I'm a little concerned about the calmness in her. She looks like she could chop the guy in two inch slices with an axe and not blink an eye.

"You want me to call the police?" I ask and for the first time the tough guy's shell cracks a little and he seems genuinely scared.

"Let's start with the principal. If that doesn't work out the way I think it will, then we'll get the cops. Give me a hand here."

I hold the guy down while Liz gets up, then pull him up and start towards the school but Liz stops me and takes the lead again.

We walk into the principal's office and explain what happened. I don't really have a lot to say so I find myself in the waiting room soon while the three of them continue talking. The school nurse goes in a few minutes later and comes out less than a minute after that. She looks worried and angry and I have a guess Liz refused to be cleaned up. It confuses me until the boy's parents come fifteen minutes later and I realize she wanted them to see the full extent of her injuries.

It's another half an hour before the boy leaves with his parents and the nurse is invited back in. A few minutes after that Liz walks out of the office, still looking bruised up but at least now she's not covered in blood anymore. I get up right away and my first thought is to hug her but I'm not sure how she feels about physical contact right now.

"You OK?" I automatically ask even though it's a stupid question.

"Let's go home," she says and takes my hand. We don't usually walk around hand in hand so I guess she really needs some reassurance.

"No cops?"

"No," she shakes her head.

We walk home in silence, the cafe forgotten. Liz is shivering every now and then and by the time we reach home she's shaking. I wrap her in three blankets before we sit down on the couch. I'm pretty sure she's not shaking because of the temperature, though.

"Tell me," I whisper softly. I don't care where she starts, I just need to know what happened and what's going to happen now.

"He kept saying he was just kidding but his parents were pissed," Liz starts, her voice is weak and far away. "They'll sell his car and ground him until college. Not that he's going to college because he got kicked out of the football team and that was his only hope. I think his life from now on is thoroughly ruined. His parents wanted me to press charges but I said no."

I'm not going to ask for her reason right now, she'll tell me later. There are more important questions in my head right now. "What did he do?"

"Grabbed me, told me what exactly he would like to do to me, pushed me against the tree and groped. That's it. I elbowed him in the stomach, kicked in the groin, restrained when he was on the ground. Didn't even need any special combat skills."

She's shaking worse now and I wrap my arm around her. There's something more but I can't figure out what it might be.

"I let him do that," she whispers.

"No, you didn't. It's not your fault."

"No. This isn't the regular victim's guilt. I _let _him. I could have stopped him when he started talking, told him to get lost and stay away. But it would have been my word against his and nothing would have changed. I... needed evidence. I knew I could take him so I just let him... smash my face to the tree. I _let _him do it. I didn't realize it would affect me like this."

"Oh..." That's pretty much the only thing I can come up with.

"It was the first time I had to defend myself in this body. I _knew_ I could do it but..."

Yeah, I get it. The what-ifs. What if her head hit the tree a little harder and got too disoriented to fight back? What if she lost consciousness? How far would that asshole really have gone?

I want to kill him. Slowly, painfully. Suddenly the_ chopping in two inch slices _-image is in my head again. If I start with the toes and work my way up really fast, he might still be alive when I reach his balls. Sadly enough, he probably wouldn't be conscious.

"I don't know what to say," I tell her honestly. Because I can't tell her the disgusting details that are rushing through my head right now.

"Don't kill him," Liz says, her voice serious, and for a second I'm worried that she actually reads my mind. "I'm not losing you because of that asshole."

"Is it enough if I promise not to get caught?" I ask, voice laced with humor but I'm actually very serious.

"No." She shakes her head. "You won't _touch_ him. Understood? My fight, I handled it the way I thought fit, that's it."

"Alright, alright," I give in and we slip into silence. At least she's not shaking anymore. That's something.

* * *

"Good reflexes," I admit out loud when the guy jumps into a sitting position as soon as I click off the safety of my gun. "Of course if I was here just to kill you, you'd be dead already. Next time, try to wake up without the jumping part, huh? Sudden moves are not a good thing in situations like this." I chat like we were just casually waiting for a class to start, not like I'm hiding in the shadows of his bedroom in the middle of the night.

"What the hell are you doing here, O'Neill?" he growls but I can hear the fear underneath the threatening tone.

"Oh, just thought you'd need a little reminder. Would be better for everyone if you fixed that attitude of yours and kept your hands the hell away from girls who don't want your hands on them. That a deal?"

"I make no deals with you, punk! I'm gonna get you in jail for break and entering."

"I didn't break anything. Entered, yes, but you can't even prove that in a few minutes. I'm not stupid enough to leave evidence." A little arrogant, I admit, but I'm feeling pretty confident about this stunt. "Liz could have sued you for attempted rape. She didn't. Hell, she could have killed you with her bare hands but she chose not to do that. And she made me promise not to kill you, either."

"Damn, man," the guy chuckles. "You're whipped!"

I raise my eyebrows. Seriously? This guy is laughing at me while I sit in the corner with a gun? He really doesn't seem to have any sense of self preservation.

I point the gun at his head and the laughter stops quickly. The gun isn't even loaded, I wouldn't take the risk. I would never kill a kid, no matter what he had done. I just wanted to teach him a little lesson and since Liz told me not to touch him... Well, let's say my options were limited.

To be honest I was kinda hoping he would wet himself but it seems I'm not getting lucky with that wish. Oh, well. I'll take what I can.

"No," I say calmly, still pointing the weapon at his forehead. "It's called _respecting other people's wishes_. You should check it out from the dictionary, _respect_ that is. It usually gets you a lot further in life than assaulting girls behind parking lots."

Oh, _now_ he wets himself. Sweet! I lower the gun and stand up, deciding I got what I came here for.

"I think you got the point," I tell him and open the window. "Goodnight!" His room is in the second floor and I _am_ a little anxious to get away so instead of climbing down the tree like I got in, I just drop myself to the ground, hide the gun under my jacket and walk away. The patio underneath the window is a little hard to land on but it's heated so at least I'm not leaving footprints in the snow.

The adrenaline in my blood scares me. I've missed it, more than I even realized. But I promise myself not to make a habit out of this.

* * *

"I told you not to touch him," Liz mumbles as soon as I sneak back under the covers. I had really hoped she wouldn't notice I'm gone. Mostly because I don't want her to get in trouble in case I get caught.

"I didn't. And I didn't kill him either. Those were the rules."

"What did you do?"

"We had a little chat. I hope he won't cause any troubles anymore." I want to tell about the wetting his bed part but that might be a little too cruel so I leave that information to myself.

"I'm still angry with you," Liz mumbles but turns around and snuggles against my shoulder.

"You're welcome," I reply softly and kiss the top of her head.

* * *

**A/N:** I wanted to bring a bit more of Jack to Jonathan's character. That's my excuse for that part.

To keep the balance, next chapter will be all pink and fluffy.

I'm going to London tomorrow (for AT6) so no promises about next update. I'm taking my texts with me and the next chapter is pretty much finished but I'm not sure how often I'll have internet access.

Thank you for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N:** This chapter is light and girly. I have no idea where it came from but it refused to leave.

AT6 was great! Amanda is a true sweetheart. And her winks and wiggling eyebrows will be the end of me one day. xD And they're definitely making it harder to stay within the rating when I write. I've been working on chapter 15 today and it just keeps getting too flirty.

* * *

**CHAPTER 12**

Liz is a little quiet for a few days and we have several serious conversations about everything but once she gets over the shock, she seems stronger than ever before. We start going to the gym together, brushing up our hand-to-hand combat skills. It seems to help her get rid of the what-ifs or at least they don't bother her as much.

To my surprise the boy actually changes his his behavior. I even catch him slapping his friends on the back of their heads when they say something inappropriate. I don't think he's changed his attitude towards girls overnight but at least he's too scared to approach them at the moment. I'm quite proud of myself. That bothers me slightly because I achieved it by scaring the guy half dead but I've done worse things. Well, _I _haven't but... Anyway, I can live with what I did.

One evening I tell Liz that maybe I should moonlight as a superhero.

"You know, I find an asshole, break into his home and scare him to turn into a good guy and the world is a little better place in the morning." Truth is, I find myself missing the adrenaline a little but I hope it will pass.

Liz laughs at me and reminds me that superheros wear tights. I suggest that I could wear a wet suit. It looks like tights except it's cool. She laughs harder and gives me a smile that at the same time appreciates my plan and lets me know she would prefer if I was her _personal _superhero.

* * *

We manage to pass Valentine's Day with no bigger fuss but the main reason for that is that Jessica's birthday is the next weekend and the girls are busy planning. From the amount of planning meetings they have had during the last few weeks, I'd think they're plotting a wedding and not a birthday party.

I do understand, however, that it's a big thing for Jessica. She's gotten a lot of new friends this year, most of them outside school, and somehow I get the idea that it's the first big birthday party she's had, at least in a long time.

Liz has spent all afternoon at Grandma's place, doing last minute preparations, and I was ordered to arrive at six and not worry about about what to wear. I have a bad feeling about this but it's Jessica's birthday so I'm trying to stay positive.

I park the car, get the present and the flowers from the backseat and head towards the house. I raise my eyebrows when I see a girl walking towards me in a big, fluffy, pale pink princess dress. Oh God... A costume party. Liz told me not to worry about outfit which only means she has bought something for me. I just hope she's forgotten my superhero quip already.

"You made it!" It's only when the girl greets me that I realize it's Liz. She's wearing a wig with long, yellow hair that curls all around her shoulders. And the big, fluffy dress. All her normal clothes are either black, red or purple. Well maybe a few white ones somewhere in between. But I definitely haven't seen her wearing pastel colors.

"A costume party?" I ask as I let her take the gift from me and lead the way inside.

"A theme party," Liz corrects.

"And the theme would be..." I ask but Liz only smiles at me over her shoulder. Yeah, I figure it out on my own as soon as we step inside. This is a princess party. Everything is pink and sparkly and... _fluffy_. Well, almost everything.

"Liz," I say and grab a hold of her tiny sleeve, stopping her from going inside. "There are _boys_ in here," I mumble and discreetly nod towards the two guys dressed as knights. Liz raises her eyebrows at me again, obviously amused.

"Yes, Jonathan. She did invite you as well, you know. That wasn't a clue enough that it's not an all-girls party?"

"Hey, I'm practically a brother in this weird family unit thing we have going on here, that doesn't count," I try to defend my point of view. I'm suddenly feeling very protective of Jessica.

"Jonathan!" the birthday girl calls and makes her way to us. Her dress is a lot more sophisticated, more of a prom dress than a costume. It's dark blue in color and it looks good on her.

"Happy birthday, princess!" I say and give her a hug.

"Thank you. Liz said every girl deserves one princess birthday party," Jessica says with a shrug and takes the flowers.

"You've never had one before?" I ask and she shakes her head with a quick "Nope".

"And you have?" I ask Liz, surprised.

"My sixth one."

"Did you wear pigtails? I always imagined you had pigtails when you were little."

"Maybe I did," Liz says with a wide grin. It's good to see her smile again.

I'm not entirely sure how the whole childhood thing works for us. Are we allowed to treat their memories as our own or should we come up with new ones? But none the less, I bet she would have been a cute kid. And probably too smart for her own good. But definitely cute.

I try not to think what our kids would look like if we ever get them. That's a little too much for my head to handle. My head is too old and my body is too young to be a father. I shake the thought away because it's not something we need to worry about right now.

The party is... interesting. There's eight of us teenagers, three boys me included, and Grandma but she does her best to stay out of our way. Liz made me wear the knight costume as well. I'm pretty sure, though, that the knights didn't really wear tights. She's probably just punishing me for the superhero quip but it's Jessica's birthday so I'm not complaining. Yet.

There's an incredible amount of _food_. Cakes, pies, pizza, snacks... There's even marshmallow pizza. With pink marshmallows. The scary part is that I actually like it.

We eat, watch a movie and play some silly games that I feel way too old to play. There's a sword fighting contest and Liz ends up kicking our asses, even in her fluffy dress and high heels. She's literally beaming when the results are presented and she gets a medal that's made of gold-painted carton. She probably made it herself for all I know.

Then we play a couple of rounds of spin the bottle. I have a hunch that's mainly because Jessica obviously has a crush on the older one of the boys, her neighbors or so I heard, and needs an excuse to kiss him. Wasn't this the sort of thing you did on your twelfth birthday? But Jessica seems to be having great time so I play along and do my best to have fun. I let Liz set the kissing dares, though, just in case I'm reading it wrong.

The others leave around eleven but Liz and I stay behind to help them clean up the place. Grandma steals my car keys, telling it's too late to drive, and we end up sleeping in the guest room. That's nothing new. Actually I'm pretty sure the room has been renamed as our room already. We even keep spare sets of pajamas in the drawer at the end of the bed, along with toothbrushes.

"So," I mumble once we get settled under the covers. "What's gonna be the theme of your eighteenth birthday, huh? No, let me guess! Star Wars?"

"No theme," Liz mumbles. "I was planning a quiet family dinner somewhere."

"Really? Because I think you have gifts for party planning. Maybe that should be your second job, you know? Science teacher and part-time party planner."

"I'm not sure if you're mocking me or praising me but luckily for you, I'm too tired to care," she mumbles and kisses my shoulder. "Goodnight, Jonathan."

"Goodnight, Liz," I reply.

* * *

**A/N:** I have no idea what an average 18th birthday is like in US but I guess it's not like this one. But I wanted to write a silly chapter so this is it. When I turned 18, I shaved my head and had 2 glasses of champagne. In that order. It was a great night.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N: **Thank you for the reviews!

This was the original crises of this story. I had to change some things because I added the assault earlier.

* * *

**CHAPTER 13**

Scars.

I noticed in the very beginning that I didn't have any of his scars. Any of them, not even the ones he got when he was a child. My skin was perfect, like a clean slate to gather all the marks of this new life.

Since then I have managed to gather quite a lot of marks all around my body. Small cuts, burns from hot dishes, one long gash on my calf because I tripped while running in the forest and hurt myself in a sharp stone.

Liz only has one scar, a long one on her lower abdomen from when her appendix ruptured and had to be removed. She never says it but I can see it in her eyes it was a scary experience for her, going through an operation and time in hospital all alone, even if it wasn't life threatening. It's a different thing to be an air force officer and lay in the infirmary and be a 17-year-old girl in some random hospital far away from home.

That's why I'm kinda grateful when I open my eyes to stare at the clean white ceiling of a hospital room and hear her voice next to me. She's angry but I don't even care because she's there. I have no idea what happened but based on her speech, something bad.

"-and if you ever dare to die on me, young man, I'm gonna dig your body up from the grave, do all kinds of shameful things to it and put it in a sarcophagus just so I can kill you again."

"S'rry," I mumble but my mouth feels like it's full of cotton.

"You're an asshole," she huffs but places the straw on my lips so I can take a sip of cold water.

"Yeah," I agree before my eyes fall shut again. I have no idea what I've done but she sounds so pissed that she probably has every right to feel that way.

"That's the last time I let you take a shower alone," she lectures me but she's squeezing my hand so tight that I know it's not just anger, it's fear, too.

"I won't mind," I mumble and squeeze her hand back.

"You have no idea what happened, do you?" she asks when I don't speak anything after that.

"Nope," I admit. The last I remember I was home alone, waiting for Liz to come from school. Her princess dress was still hanging in the closet door and I remember thinking she should probably put it away. But I don't think the dress got me here so no, I really have no idea.

"You fell," she tells me, still sounding angry. "In the shower. You fell in the shower, Jonathan. In. The. Shower." Now she sounds just plain upset instead of angry. "I don't think I've-" she stops to swallow. "I've never seen that much blood. And I've seen a lot of it."

"I'm sorry." It's not like I did it on purpose but it feels appropriate to apologize.

"You were unconscious and lying on top of the... the valve in the bottom of the tub. The shower was still on and you were moments away from drowning and there was blood everywhere and-" A sob cuts her sentence short and I desperately want to comfort her but I don't think I can move because everything hurts.

"Shh..." I whisper and squeeze her hand again. "I'm alive. I'm OK. I'll never take a shower again, OK?"

"You're not OK! Your arm is broken and you have to wear a neck brace and, and, and... You're not OK!"

"Well I'm alive, right?" I mumble. That has to count for something.

"You are," she whispers hardly audible but somehow still manages to sound like she's angry about it.

"Come here," I whisper and somehow manage to move a little towards the other side of the bed to make space for her. Liz climbs on the bed without hesitation and that's when I know she must have been terrified. She doesn't lecture me about staying still or being careful of my injuries because she needs the contact I'm offering her.

Liz cries herself to sleep against my shoulder and I hate the fact that I made her so scared. I can't even hold her because everything hurts too much but I hope it's enough to be close to me.

I would probably cry, too, if I had found her in a pool of blood. I keep that information to myself.

* * *

"I thought it would end," Liz whispers. "They've spent so many days, weeks, hell it might have been months, sitting next to each others beds in the infirmary... I never considered it would happen to us, too."

"People get hurt," I tell her softly. "Unless you roll me into bubble wrap and tie me to the couch, I will get sick and I will get hurt. And so will you. And we'll take care of each other and we'll get better."

I don't want to say it out loud but I can't help wondering why this is so much bigger a deal to her than the whole getting assaulted -thing. But then again, that was a big deal to _me_ so in a way I understand her. If I had to choose between getting hurt or watching someone I love get hurt, I would definitely choose the first one, no matter what the damage would be.

"I thought I was prepared," she sighs, staring at the white sheet of my hospital bed. "After that whole... I was prepared for you getting in a fight. Bruises, maybe having a limb in a cast... I had thought it through. I just didn't... Prepare for the option that I could come that close to losing you."

"You're not supposed to prepare for that," I tell her.

She's silent for a long time, her thumb stroking the back of my hand and I know this isn't just about getting hurt anymore, she's thinking deeper again, analyzing something so complex that I have no way of catching up with her thought process.

"I forgot a variable," she finally confesses and heaves a sigh like she's relieved to get that secret out of her chest. "I had the perfect formula but now I realize I forgot a variable."

She doesn't say it but I can hear the rest of that sentence. _What else did I forget? What else did I not think about?_

I want to tell her it doesn't matter, that life doesn't follow plans anyway so her precious equations and formulas won't help her in the long run but I don't do that because I would be diminishing something that's important to her, telling her she looks at the world the wrong way.

Because I know she's not trying to predict the future or dictate it, I think it's more like making a list of things that can go wrong. She probably has a percentage already, how likely it is that everything will go to hell, but now she needs to add something to that list and check the numbers. I doubt she actually has an equation or a spreadsheet somewhere but on the other hand, I wouldn't be surprised.

* * *

Liz is different once I get home from the hospital. She's more reserved, overly careful and jumpy all the time. At nights she wraps herself so tightly around me that I can hardly breath. She doesn't let me out of her sight at day, either. At first I think it's shock but she doesn't snap out of it.

Liz doesn't smile as much as she used to and the sadness seems to linger in her eyes all the time. In some odd way, despite the clinging, she seems to be putting distance between us, like she doesn't want to be emotionally attached to someone whom she might lose.

"Talk to me," I whisper in her hair one evening when we're cuddling under the covers, waiting for sleep. "Tell me what's wrong. Tell me how to fix this."

"I can't," she sighs. "I don't have the words."

"Then you need to find the words," I whisper and she tightens the arm around me to let me know she heard it but she has no reply for me.

"I want to grow old with you," I whisper. "I want to be one of those happy, silly old couples that young people look with envy, hoping they'll have that one day, too. I want to be one of those couples who don't really talk anymore because they have nothing new to say but they smile all the time because they've had an awesome life together. I want to call you _honey _and _darling_ because I've forgotten your name already." I don't even know if there are such couples in real life but that's what I want with her.

I hear her swallow.

"I want to be happy with you," I say softly and kiss the top of her head. "I don't want to turn bitter together. You're not happy right now. And I need to know how I can fix that because I don't want you to just... fade away. I don't want to lose you."

I can feel her tears wetting my shoulder and gliding down the skin to fall on the sheet below me. That scares me a little because I suddenly realize that maybe she knows what's wrong and what she needs to do to fix it, she just doesn't say it our loud because she knows it will hurt me.

"I love you," I say softly. It's the first time I've ever said it out loud but I need to say it now, I need her to hear it. She doesn't say anything but the arm around my ribs squeezes me a little tighter.

* * *

**A/N:** I have finished chapter 14 but chapter 15 is still in the works and I have no idea how many, if any, chapters there will be after that so you'll have to wait for the next update until I figure that out. I would hate to find myself in a dead end.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews! And apologies for the delay.

I think I finally figured out a good point to end this story and there will be 16 chapters in total which means two more after this one. I wanted to finish them all so I can post frequently because these three chapters are quite strongly tied to each other and will make more sense that way, hopefully.

I have the remaining chapters finished already. (Which means I will spend 10 hrs editing each chapter before I dare to post them but _in theory_ they are finished.) I'm hoping to finish this story within a week, maybe sooner if I panic. Also, each chapter is around 2000 words so they're decent length.

* * *

**CHAPTER 14**

Liz's behavior makes a one-eighty after that night. The first thing is that she takes more distance physically. She starts going for long walks in the evenings. I don't know if she goes alone or with a friend and it's not my place to ask, I just hope she's doing it to clear her head and gather her thoughts, not to get away from me.

She moves to sleep on the couch and for a week or so it feels like we're two strangers who share a fridge. I catch her looking out the window again and it scares me to think she might just leave one morning without telling me.

I only had to keep the neck brace for two days after the hospital but the cast in my arm is supposed to stay for a month. Life would be much easier if Liz helped with everyday things like making coffee and doing the dishes but if she needs her space, I give her space. But I do my best to hide all the garbage bags and pieces of duck tape I need to make a watertight cover for the damn cast whenever I need to clean a coffee cup.

I do, however, keep the promise I made in the hospital even though Liz probably wouldn't hold me responsible for it. I don't take showers, only baths. It's easier with the cast anyway.

After a week of silent treatment, she starts to drift towards me again. Not physically at first but emotionally. We start talking again and end up having conversations about a lot of things I had already decided to never approach. She even admits that sometimes she regrets making the decision, regrets that she exists. But then she feels guilty because there are so many good things about this life and she's grateful at the same time.

We talk about the future, more realistically and in depth this time. Liz says she still wants to become a teacher but she's going to get involved with the research as well. We even mention the possibility of children briefly but that's still too complicated for both of us to even discuss properly so we just add it to the list of things we need to figure out at some point.

Slowly we start to get back to the point that was our normal before I fell in the shower. Maybe even bit further than that because we've actually managed to talk about a lot of things we were avoiding before. Three weeks after the accident, I'd like to think we're good again.

There haven't been any more confessions of love, one way or another, but it doesn't really matter. I know the sentiment is there, behind everything we do and say.

Every now and then I think I see something flash in Liz's eyes like there's still something she needs to do to get her equations right but I might be just imagining those moments. I _hope_ I'm just imagining those moments.

* * *

We celebrate Liz's birthday in a little restaurant near Grandma's house, a week before the official day because Grandma will be out of town for the big weekend. It's a small celebration, just the two of us, Grandma, Jessica and the guy who lives in the next house and is apparently now her boyfriend. I already forgot his name but the guy seems nice. He's quiet but he has a wicked sense of humor when he actually opens his mouth.

I'm intentionally keeping my distance, though, observing him, trying to decide if he's going to stick around and more importantly, if he's good enough for my adoptive little sister. So far so good.

Liz pulls me aside at some point and somehow I get the idea that she's been trying to signal something to me without words but I didn't get it so she has to lower herself to my level and actually use words to get it out. And she seems pissed about this, that much I _can _read.

"Jonathan," she says with an amused little smile. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" I frown, wondering what I did wrong. The waitress has been flirting with me all evening but I'm pretty sure I haven't encouraged her. But then again, I'm not very good at knowing what is considered as encouraging by these teenage girls.

"That whole... Silent third degree you're giving Dean."

"Silent third degree?" I ask and raise my eyebrows. I didn't know it was possible to silently interrogate someone.

"I know that look."

"What look!"

"The one you've been giving him all night. It says _So you think you're dating my daughter? We'll see about that._"

"Oh, that look." I remember Cassie telling the Colonel that he used that look whenever he saw her with a boy. I didn't realize I was using it now, though.

"Yes, Jonathan," she sighs and rolls her eyes. "_That _look! What else?!"

I shrug. I really have no clue. "And it's not daughter, it's little sister."

Suddenly her angry glare softens into a gentle look.

"Hey," I say firmly. I don't want her to go all girly on me. Because that looks seems to be the prologue for the _aww that's so sweet_ -look and possibly even the spoken words.

"Fine, fine," Liz sighs. "But please apologize. You're scaring the poor boy. He's a good guy. I wouldn't let him near _my _little sister otherwise, OK?"

"You ran a background check." It's a statement, not a question. Liz only raises her eyebrows and this time I read it loud and clear. _Ya think?_

"And for the record, it slightly bothers me that you call Jessica your sister just after I called her my sister because that kinda means _you _are my sister as well and that is wrong on so many levels."

"She was my friend first. I'm her sister and you're the brother-in-law, OK?"

"We should go back," I reply instead of answering her question.

Liz shakes her head, at my childish behavior I assume, and takes my good hand as we make our way back to the table.

"Uh, Dean, right?" I ask a little awkwardly as I sit back in my chair. The guy nods.

"I'm sorry if I've been impolite. I might have gotten a little too serious about being the protective big brother. You seem like a nice guy." That's the best I can manage and since Liz doesn't kick me under the table, I think it's good enough.

"It's OK," he says with a quick smile. "Hey, I thought you were younger than Jessica."

"Age is just a number," Liz and I say at the same time and then burst into laughter.

* * *

On Liz's official birthday, I drag her out of bed before sunrise and tell her to get dressed. I refuse to tell her where we're going which annoys her greatly and she sulks the whole one hour drive. I only got rid of the cast a few days earlier and my left hand is still quite useless, even when it comes to something as simple as driving, but I wanted to do this on her exact birthday.

"A warehouse in the middle of nowhere?" Liz asks when we reach our destination and I park the car in front of the building that has seen better days.

"Yep," I only reply and get out of the car. She's still pretending to be pissed and refuses to get out of the car but I can see she's a little curious now. I open the door to her like a gentleman and finally, with a roll of her eyes, she jumps out.

"You didn't buy the building, right?" she asks.

"Of course not," I reassure her and lead the way towards the door on the side.

"I bought what's inside," I tell her once the door opens with a squeak. I fumble a little, looking for the light switch, but finally manage to snap the bright ceiling lights on.

"A plane," Liz says with an even tone I can't quite read. "You bought me a plane for my eighteenth birthday."

"Yep," I say, overly cheerful, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. She either loves it or hates it.

"Jonathan... I'm not even allowed to fly that thing!"

"Right, about that..." I pull an envelope from my back pocket. I got her enrolled into a flight school. It should be a piece of cake because, you know, she already knows how to fly. Of course I could have just found a way to hack into the system and get her listed as a certified pilot but I kinda like doing things the official way this time.

"Besides," I say while she reads the letter. "Look at that thing. It's gonna take a while before _it_ can fly so I think you'll be fine."

"How did you even find it!" Liz sighs and I still can't read if she's happy or angry.

"Well I was talking with Grandma about my plan to get you to the flight course. I said you used to fly with your Dad and maybe you miss it. Then it turned out her brother has an old Cessna in a warehouse outside the city and ta-daa! Here we are."

Liz's official cover story is that her Dad is a single parent and serves in the Air Force. He went MIA two years ago and Liz's grandmother has been her official guardian since then but Liz has been coming and going on her own for the most of that time. I don't remember her actually telling that story to anyone but I know it's listed in her school papers.

"Jonathan..." she sighs again and I get the feeling that she's disappointed in me. "Usually when a guy tries to cheer a girl up with presents, they go for chocolate or flowers. Not a plane!"

"Sure. I can keep the plane then and get you chocolate," I say with a shrug. She doesn't sound angry, more like surprised and overwhelmed. "And this is a _birthday_ present, the trip to Hawaii is the cheer up -present."

She glares at me and I shrug again. "But I guess it's better if I just cancel that one."

Liz takes a few steps forward to actually look at the plane. It's in bad shape. It's been on its own for the last decade, if not longer. Mice have eaten most of the seats and there's rust and all other kinds of problems but the structure seemed sturdy enough that I labeled it as salvageable.

"I'm going to the flight course as well," I tell her when she's been circling the plane for a while. "I miss the freedom. And the adrenaline. But the plane is all yours if you just want it."

Finally she turns around and gives me a brilliant smile.

"OK?" I ask. Liz just looks at me, then tilts her head to the side a little with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"You know I love you, right?" she asks and the smile breaks free on her face.

"I do now," I answer. "I hope I don't need to buy you a plane every time I want to hear that."

She punches me on the shoulder, pretending to be shocked. "It has nothing to do with the plane," she says but the fact that she can't keep her eyes off it is kinda amusing.

"Thank you," Liz says and takes my hand, then gives it a squeeze.

"You're welcome. We need to find it a place closer to home so we can actually start working on it."

"Yep," she says and gives the plane a once-over. "It's gonna become a great plane."

Liz has that look in her eyes, the one I last saw on Carter a long time ago. I can see the designs and equations running in her head, a plan forming. Yeah, it was a great present.

* * *

**A/N:** My Dad wanted to buy an old Cessna from an auction once, simply because he's never had an airplane (Difference between men and boys is the price of toys, eh?) so I know they're not super expensive. That's all I know about planes, though.

But in case you're wondering where Jonathan got the money... If I was in the Air Force and would have to get rid of a Jack O'Neill junior by dumping him into a high school, I would make sure there's plenty of money on his bank account to keep him comfortable.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews!

And apologies for the slight delay but I have a good excuse. I've been plotting a possible sequel with a friend. No promises yet but I'm quite excited about it.

This chapter is bit of a... mix of moods. The last part is kinda random but it just poured out of my fingertips and I wanted it to stay. This is more Jonathan-centric because I wanted and needed to write him interacting with someone other than Liz.

And because I needed to set the premise for the last chapter which plays with layers again and for that I needed Liz to contact Carter. Hopefully it will make sense at the end of the last chapter.

* * *

**CHAPTER 15**

"Hey, Liz!" I call as soon as I close the front door behind me. It's the first day of spring break and I have a surprise for her. It was an out of the blue idea that I got when looked at the plane earlier this week and remembered our conversation when I bought it to her. I'm not sure how she reacts, though. I was just kidding back then but she didn't seem too excited about the idea.

"Hey!" she calls from the living room.

"Oh, you're packing already." My first thought is that somehow she figured out my plan but then I realize the look on her face is something else.

"Yeah..." she mumbles and keeps folding her clothes into the suitcase. "I really need to go talk with Sam. I hope you're OK with this." She glances at me briefly before she turns her gaze back to her things. "We didn't have any plans, right?"

"Nope," I say and push the flight tickets in my back pocket. "No plans. I was just looking forward to spending some time with you, that's all."

"I'm sorry," she sighs and stops the packing to look at me. There's a guilty expression on her face and suddenly I realize that she's been planning this for a long time. Well plan might be a wrong word but she's been thinking about it. Every time I saw that little flash in her eyes, she probably thought how she should go and then in the next millisecond decided against it.

I also get the idea that something specific happened that made her make the decision _now_.

"Hey, it's OK. Any plans how long you'll stay?"

"No," she says. "But I'll keep you posted."

I nod. "Sure."

She folds the last pair of jeans in the suitcase and zips it. She has her backpack as well and I realize if that's all filled with clothes, she has enough for more than a month.

"I'm sorry but I really need to leave now. I thought you'd come earlier so I could explain but I'm running late already."

"It's OK," I tell her with a smile.

"I'll explain when I come back," she promises and I nod. Then she closes the distance between us, leans in to plant a chaste kiss on my lips, whispers a quick "I love you" and heads out the door.

It takes a moment for my brain to catch up but I manage to yell a "Love you, too!" after her before the door closes. I swear I hear her chuckling in the staircase. It's still new, to actually say hear the words, or say them.

I find myself standing in front of the kitchen window, watching her drive away. I pull my phone from my pocket, still staring at the corner where she disappeared a moment ago, and dial a familiar number.

"Hey, Jessica," I say when she picks up. "How would you and Grandma feel about a week in Hawaii, huh? I have two tickets in case you're interested."

* * *

I get settled on the couch for the night. The bed just doesn't feel right when Liz is not here.

The apartment seems empty because Liz took most of her clothes and cosmetics with her. I hadn't even realized how little of her things there were in the apartment. She even took the almost empty shampoo bottle from the bathroom. The only things I _can_ find are her school books and her favorite coffee cup plus half a drawer of clothes. Plus the damn princess dress she wore for Jessica's birthday.

I make a mental note that as soon as she comes back, I'm gonna make her buy new drapes for the living room so there's something in the apartment that's hers but that can't be packed with her the next time she goes off on a little trip.

I have no idea if she's going for the weekend, a whole week or longer. Hell, for all I know she might not come back at all. I remind myself that she promised to explain when she comes back which suggest that she _is_ coming back. It's a little past one in the morning when I decide that I need to stop thinking and start sleeping. Then my phone beeps and Liz announces she's in Colorado Springs.

It never occurred to me that she might _fly_ there, I thought she would make a road trip like last time and it would take at least two days, probably longer. I could have taken her to the airport, for crying out loud! At least then her car would still be in the damn spot eighteen. I get up and pull the drapes in front of the window because the parking lot is making me even more depressed.

* * *

The next day, I find myself slipping into the life of a bachelor again. Suddenly cooking feels like way too much of a trouble and I just order pizza. One for lunch, one for dinner. I also decide it would be a good time to practice my alcohol tolerance and soon the coffee table has a bunch of beer cans next to the pizza boxes.

I find myself wondering why Liz left. I know there's something she needs to talk with Carter but I'm not sure if it's about Liz or about Carter. For some reason I can't shake the feeling that Liz is worried about her older version but I don't know if she left to get something off her own chest or to make sure Carter is alright. I refuse to call and ask, especially because I can already feel the alcohol affecting me.

I wonder what the Colonel - General, I correct myself - would do if I called or showed up behind his door and said I want to talk about some girl problems. But then again, I can't imagine Liz and Carter having a girl talk either. Oh, well. I'll just have to wait and see what happens. I make a promise to keep myself busy so I don't have time to worry.

* * *

Turns out it's harder than I expected to keep myself busy. It seems like all my friends have disappeared all around the country, or world. Including Jessica and Grandma but that's my fault and mine alone. It feels like the first weeks after I enrolled into this school, when I didn't know anyone in this town, and I don't like about that feeling.

A couple of times I text Liz to ask how she's doing but her answers are short and give me the impression that I'm interrupting something so I stop bothering her and decide to wait until she contacts me.

I go check on Liz's plane which we moved into a warehouse closer to home but it's her plane, not mine, so there's not much I can do. I make a rough list of tools we might need and make a shopping trip to the hardware store but that only takes three hours in total which leaves way too many boring hours left in the day.

Eventually, when I run out of movies to watch and books to read, I end up calling Dean, Jessica's boyfriend. I don't even have a specific plan about what to do. Turns out he's just as bored as I am because I sent his girlfriend to Hawaii. I apologize and offer to buy him a beer. He bargains it to three and bets a six pack that he can beat me on a go-kart track.

I get my ass handed to me on a silver plate despite putting up one hell of a fight. We end up on my couch, eating pizza and drinking beer, watching some mindless action movie. At first we chat about everything but then we slip into a comfortable silence, both nursing our beers and watching the movie.

* * *

"So..." Dean starts when the movie has ended and somehow I can sense a serious question coming. I don't like serious questions. They make me uncomfortable. Especially because usually I hear that tone from Liz when she wants to talk about _us_ so I have no idea why Dean is using it.

"Yeah?" I ask anyway and take a sip of my beer. How many have I had now? I glance at the empty six pack at the corner of the table. Then the opened one and the few bottles I had in fridge already. I'd say we've gotten rid of about ten so that means five for me. Yeah, that seems close enough.

"Are you planning to propose to her?" Dean asks and I frown as I take another gulp of beer.

"Propose? Propose what? Wait, to whom?"

"Liz, of course. You know, propose. Flowers, ring, down on one knee? Propose."

I spurt the beer out of my mouth, all over the empty pizza boxes, and take a few seconds to pull myself together. "Marriage? I, I've-" I've already done that once but that didn't work out too well. But I can't say that. "I'm seventeen," I say instead. "No. I'm not going to propose to anyone for a while." We haven't actually talked about that. Funny. We've talked about where we want to live and about pets and a bit about kids and even how big a garage we need but never marriage.

"Ah, I keep forgetting that," Dean says with a shrug. "You two seem older somehow."

"I guess we're both old souls." That's bit of an inside joke between Liz and I.

Dean looks at me like he knows there's a story behind that but he also seems smart enough not to ask. He's a couple of years older than us, he's going to turn twenty-one in December. He's been working in his father's company since he graduated high school, saving money for college.

He acts so grown up that I keep forgetting I'm supposed to be seventeen now and find myself talking about serious subjects with him. Well, usually not quite _this _serious. But we've hung out quite a few times since Liz's birthday. Usually when the girls suggest a "double date" at the mall and then end up disappearing in the clothe stores together.

It's great to talk about cars and politics and history with someone instead of girls and beer. There's nothing wrong with girls or beer, I'm very fond of both of them, but it's nice to talk about other things as well.

"Why do you ask?" I suddenly panic that maybe he knows something I don't know, that maybe Liz has said something to Jessica who has said something to Dean and now I'm hearing it from him.

"I don't know," he shrugs and takes a new beer. I don't even know what that new movie is that's playing on the background but suddenly we're both trying very hard to pretend we're watching it.

"Do you know something I don't know?"I finally has to ask out loud. "Has she said she wants to get married?" I can't imagine Liz saying that. It would be weird. Unless there's a reason why she wants to get married right now. Something like... "Is she pregnant?"

"Whoa! Quite a leap there!" Dean yelps, his eyes widening and I can see he's regretting he started this conversation. "Why the hell would I know if your girlfriend is pregnant!"

"Well your girlfriend is her best friend so..."

"Even if she told something like that to Jessica, Jess would never tell _me_. No, I don't know anything more. I just thought... I keep forgetting how young you are, OK? I think you're like a couple years older than me. And you two seem quite... solid."

"We are," I agree with a nod. "Well at least I thought we were until she took off without explanation because there was something she needed to talk about with her... aunt." I'm pretty sure Liz told me that she calls Sam her aunt when she talks to Jessica.

Then my head jumps to another one of those funny, half-drunken conclusions and my eyes widen in shock. What if that's what she wanted to talk about with Carter? Pregnancy?

I snatch my phone from the coffee table but Dean manages to wrestle it from my hand before I send a text message I might regret once I sober up.

"She would have told you," Dean says and pushes the phone between the sofa pillows on his other side so I can't reach it. "Seriously, she would have told you."

I frown and try to stop panicking for long enough to really think it through. Yeah, he's right. Liz would have told me. She probably still would have left to consult Carter but she would have told me the reason. So there is some other reason for her departure. Hey, maybe Carter is pregnant! I snicker at my own joke and Dean glances at me, obviously worried. Carter would have pretty kids. So would Liz for that matter. It's funny that I imagine their kids to look completely different even though they have the same DNA.

"I'm a little scared to ask this but..." Dean starts. "What are you laughing at?"

"Liz and her aunt would make pretty babies," I answer and he raises his eyebrows with a _Do I need to talk to you about human biology_ -expression which makes me laugh harder when I realize how that sounded.

"I meant separately," I explain but that doesn't help much with his expression. "I think I need more pizza to balance all this beer. Gimme my phone."

"Ah, nope. You'll find it in the morning. I can call. What do you want?"

Sweet. An overprotective big brother. I've never had one before. "Pepperoni."

"And what?"

"More pepperoni?"

He shakes his head but I know he'll get me a pizza with double pepperoni. I really hope Jessica doesn't let this one go. I like him. "Wait! You're not going to propose to Jessica, right?" Because that would explain why he asked, if he had been thinking about the subject already.

He's already dialing the pizza place and raises his eyebrows at me, trying to decide if I deserve an answer or not.

Obviously no one is answering on the other end of the line because he decides to answer me: "We've dated for less than two months," he says and now it's my turn to raise my eyebrows and urge him to answer the original question. "No," he continues.

Right. It's good that one of us can be reasonable after five beers. But then suddenly I realize that there's no way of telling if we've divided the beers evenly. I'm sure I've seen Dean open at least three beers. Four if I include the one he just took which raises the total of beers tonight to eleven. If that's all he had, the four beers I mean, that means I've had...

I can see the numbers dance in front of my eyes and I wonder if this is how math is for Liz, dancing numbers. Except I'm pretty sure she sees the numbers better, they're bit blurry for me. I think about the original problem and grab a hold of the number seven that's doing a macarena dance next to a nine. Seven beers. In worst case, I might have had nine beers.

I think I really need that pepperoni pizza.

* * *

**A/N:** I have a problem with writing that my main characters always end up pregnant. You probably haven't noticed because I only publish 8% of the stories I start writing. After a lot of struggling I managed not to get Liz pregnant in this story but I wanted to to add some kind of quip about the subject.

Thanks for reading! Next chapter is the last one and obviously Liz comes home from her trip.


	16. Chapter 16

******Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and settings are property of their lawful owners. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews!

This is the final chapter of this story. More about that at the end of the chapter.

In this chapter I'm playing with the layers again. This takes place a month or so after the ending scene in Threads and is tied quite strongly to that so if you haven't seen the episode (I'm sure such people exist), the ending probably won't make much sense.

I'm also leaning further away from the canon timeline, just because I strongly believe that Jack and Sam finally got their happily ever after. It won't make a difference to _this_ story, I just think they deserved it.

**SPOILERS:** Up until the end of season 8, especially Threads.

* * *

**CHAPTER 16**

Dean ends up spending the night. He passes out on top of a sleeping bag, under the coffee table. That's the best we could manage as a spare bed in our condition. We don't really talk in the morning, a few grunts here and there when either one of us wants more coffee or pizza. He digs my phone from inside the couch before he leaves which is good because I wouldn't have remembered it otherwise.

The day goes by in a fog. As soon as my headache calms down enough that I can watch TV, that's all I do. TV, pizza and plenty of alcohol-free liquids. Well, and a shower, of course. The apartment is a mess but I can't be bothered to clean up. _Tomorrow,_ I tell myself when I decide it's late enough to go to sleep.

I wake up in the middle of the night to a strange feeling that something's off but I don't know what. I listen carefully but hear nothing unusual, then open my eyes and scan the room. Nothing.

Eventually I turn on the lights, check the hallway to make sure nobody is standing behind the door and even check underneath the bed. But it's not a _you're in danger_ -feeling and that confuses me. I make my way to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water before I go back to bed and then it hits me.

Parking spot eighteen is not empty anymore. I rub my eyes a couple of time because I think I'm dreaming but I'm sure that's Liz's truck.

Keys and flip-flops are all I take with me when I storm out of the building, I don't even remember to grab a shirt. I slow down when I get closer to the vehicle, and finally sneak right next to it. The windows are darkened so if I didn't know what I'm looking for, I would have no idea there's someone sleeping on the backseat.

*knock knock*

Liz sits up and it takes a moment before she realizes where she is and what just happened. She scrolls down the window and I just stare at her with my eyebrows raised, silently asking what the hell she's doing.

"I didn't want to wake you up," she mumbles and runs her hand over her face. She fell asleep with her make up on and now she looks pretty much like a panda. Adorable, but I don't think it's a good idea to say it out loud right now.

"Well I'm awake. You coming in?"

"You don't have to," she says with a sad little smile and I frown, wondering what the hell I'm missing here.

"Well you don't have to sleep in a car in front of your own home."

"It's not my home, Jonathan. It's yours."

"It's been yours since I gave you the key. Now get your ass out of the damn car because I'm freezing here."

"Right," she mumbles and sits up. "I brought someone with me," she says and glances at me, looking apologizing.

"You've got Carter in the trunk?" I ask when she doesn't elaborate.

"No, it's a... a kitten. It's a long story. I didn't know how you feel about cats so I didn't want to burst in with her in the middle of the night."

I look more carefully inside the car and notice a big carton box on the front seat. It has plenty of air holes in it so I suspect that's where the cat is.

"I'm more of a dog person but we can have that conversation in the morning, over a cup of something _warm. _Just come inside, Liz," I plead because I'm getting _really_ cold and I think we have some kind of misunderstanding going here.

"You're not mad at me?" she asks when she finally opens the door and steps out.

"No," I say and shake my head. I didn't even realize I _could_ be. I probably should have gotten pissed for her leaving with no explanation but instead I've been wallowing in self-pity. "You might be mad at _me_, though, when you see what a mess I've made in less than a week."

I take the cat box while Liz takes her backpack.

As soon as the cat is let out of her box, she jumps on the coffee table and curls on top of the pizza box tower I've been working on all week. Well one of them, there are actually two piles. But the top box on the other pile got soaked when Dean freaked me out with his question and I wasted a mouthful of good beer by spraying it all over our living room.

I glance at Liz, trying to decide if I should ask whether she or Carter is pregnant but I decide it's better to just keep my mouth shut and trust that she would tell me. Besides, now that I'm sober and actually do the math since her last chocolate hoarding days, it's impossible that she's pregnant.

"Her name is Cookie," Liz explains to me when we've been standing silently in the corner of the living room, just watching the kitten get comfortable. "We found her in the dumpster behind the motel. There were four kittens but the others... didn't make it. Sam couldn't take her so I did. I took the bus back. That's why it took me longer."

"Why not give her to Cassie?" That would be my first option if I found an orphaned animal in the Springs.

"Cassie is a big girl now," Liz says softly. "She's away in college. I don't know where, though."

"Christ," I mumble when I suddenly realize that the little girl we rescued is now older than me.

"Yeah," Liz sighs and I think it's as weird for her as well. I wonder is she's seen Cassie. Probably not.

The silence stretches once again and in the end I decide to pull both of us out of our memories and back to present. "I can call her Choc'chip, right?" I ask and nod towards the kitten.

"Of course you will," Liz chuckles. It's not a permission, really, she just accepts the fact that I will give the cat my own nicknames along the way, whether she likes it or not.

It's easy to guess where the cat got her name. She's brown with small black patches all over her. She's not much larger than a cookie, either, when she's curled up like that.

"I see you've been living on the couch," Liz finally states the obvious. She doesn't comment on the sleeping bag under the coffee table.

"Uh, yeah... You can take the bed." My best guess is still that she left to figure out if our relationship has a future and I assume there's some big conversation we're supposed to have before we get all comfortable again.

She looks at me, painted eyebrows raised and I try so hard to ignore the smudges in her make-up. "If I'm going to sleep alone, I might as well sleep in the car," she says.

"OK. Bed it is then," I nod and make my way to the couch to gather my pillow and comforter.

"Jonathan..." Liz whispers softly, sounding hesitant, and I realize she hasn't moved an inch.

"I don't know why you left," I confess. "And I don't know why you came back. So I wanted you to have the choice. You know, in case you're mad at me or something." I'm starting to think my first guess was wrong and now I kinda feel like an idiot.

"I'm not."

"Good. Can we sleep now? We can talk in the morning, OK?"

She nods and grabs a pair of my sweats from the drawer before she makes her way to the bathroom.

* * *

We get settled on our sides, facing each other, close but not quite touching, both still feeling a little awkward and not quite sure where we stand. It's funny, really, that we both think the other one is upset.

"I left because I had a bad hunch," Liz finally says when it becomes obvious we're not going to sleep, both too anxious to get things sorted.

"Were you right?" I ask even though I'm not sure if I want to know.

"I was," she says and I can see the sadness in her eyes. I'm not sure if I want to know who died. I'm not sure if I want to know how many have died since I left. They're at war, after all. Some days I can almost forget that.

"But something good came out of it anyway," Liz continues. "They finally went fishing," she says with a smirk that tells me she knows a lot more details than I'm comfortable with. Because if Liz knows details about Carter's love life, she probably knows some about ours. But at least that means the Col - General didn't die.

I'm pretty sure that fishing means _beginning_ of something, though. It means they went to the cabin and talked. It means they finally gave the relationship a chance and decided to see if it works out or not. I'm pretty sure it doesn't mean hot sex on the dock. I frown, confused about the whole concept of thinking about their relationship. It's bit like thinking about your parents having sex except it's not your parents, it's you except it's not exactly you anymore, either. Something between an identical twin and parents, I guess. Either way it makes my brain hurt.

"That's good," I finally reply and Liz grins at me, obviously aware of the thoughts running in my head.

Liz closes the distance between us and buries her face in my neck. Her arm wraps loosely around my waist. "There was tequila," she mumbles and I'm not quite sure if she's talking about her get-together with Carter or about the fishing trip our originals had together. Probably Carter. Fishing goes with beer, that's the rule.

"And the manager of the motel thought we were having an affair," Liz continues and somehow her tone sounds like she's confessing her sins.

"It was a little weird at first to see her. But the alcohol helped. We talked about _everything._ She deleted my spreadsheet," Liz snorts, obviously upset about it. "She gets irrational when she's in love. I wasn't expecting that."

Well, me neither. Carter? Irrational? Those two words just don't fit in the same sentence. But it's also kinda funny that there's something about Carter that Liz doesn't know because isn't that bit like finding out something new about herself? I wonder if Liz gets irrational when she's in love, too. That would explain why she flipped when I fell in the shower, though.

"She asked if I'm happy. I said yes and then she tore the paper where I wrote the new equations and she deleted the spreadsheet and told me to go home because life is too short."

That's not just Carter being irrational because she's in love, I'm pretty sure that's tied to whatever went on in Springs before Liz got there. "What happened?" I ask because I think she needs to say it out loud, whatever it was that proved her bad hunch correct.

Liz is silent for a long time, breathing slowly, and for a brief second I think she might be sleeping already but then she whispers a quick "Jacob" and I can feel my own throat constricting.

"It was peaceful. She was there until the end. It's..." she stops to search for the right word to describe how she feels but in the end she settles for "hard" which I know doesn't describe even remotely how she feels right now.

Are we allowed to mourn for the people who used to be our family or closest friends but who don't even know we exist? Or should we treat them like strangers? I don't think there's a rulebook about these things. There should be, though. I could have used a copy of "How to Deal with the Fact That You're a Clone".

"And there were other things," she continues but I know she won't explain those in detail, she just wants me to know Jacob's death wasn't the only thing that's gone wrong lately. But I'm glad she mentioned that something's gone right as well.

"I'm sorry about Jacob."

"So am I," Liz sighs. "It was funny, really, when we sat there and drank and just... remembered. We both had clung to different memories. I had already forgotten the things Sam talked about and she hadn't thought of the events I remembered for years. There's a big part of us that is the same but... We're very separate now."

The way she says it lets me know it's important to her, that it was the big revelation that made her trip worth it.

"Are you staying?" I ask because despite everything, that's the question I most need an answer for.

"Of course I'm staying," Liz says softly but firmly like it was the most ridiculous question ever.

"So, you know... The whole deal? Is that still the plan? Puppy and house in the suburbs?" We already have a cat and I know it's staying. I don't ask about marriage because that's a conversation we shouldn't have in the middle of the night when we're both still feeling a little shaken and because it doesn't really matter all that much in the long run.

"Yes. Just don't buy me a house without asking me, OK? It's fine with airplanes, just... Not with a house."

"Why would I buy you a house without asking?" I frown, wondering if this is some old mistake I made and she's scared of me repeating, maybe she _is _pissed about the plane after all, or if this is something about Carter. "I mean... We're great together but... I wouldn't even pretend to know you well enough to buy a house." I have no idea if she wants a wooden house or a brick house or something else. I have no idea about the color of said house, I don't even know how many rooms our house should have. There's no _way_ I would buy a house without asking her.

Liz cries. Somehow I get the idea that those are happy tears or at the very least, relieved tears. But I can't be sure so I just pull her closer.

"But a puppy would be fine, right?" I whisper and stroke her back gently. "Puppies are closer to airplanes than houses, right? At least when it comes to size. But I guess it would be a lot like a house in the way that you have to see it every day." Now I'm starting to confuse even myself.

"Puppy would be fine," she mumbles against my shoulder, her voice full of tears but there's a hint of laughter as well.

"Good. But maybe I should wait until you buy us a bigger place, huh? Don't wanna turn this into a zoo."

~The End~

* * *

**A/N:** I know it's bit of an abrubt ending but for some reason it felt right.

I was thinking about writing about the prom or about the graduation but couldn't figure out anything worth writing. If I get a sudden inspiration, I might add either of those as an epilogue at the end of this story but that's unlikely.

I also have a sequel idea that starts when they go to university and I've written about 6000 words of it but I have no way of knowing if it will work out or not in the end so no promises. This story might continue one day but that's probably months away at least.

This was supposed to be the funny little story in between my more serious projects but now I just don't know how to let go. I always feel empty when a story comes to an end.

Thank you for joining me on this ride! And thank you for all the reviews and messages and encouraging words.


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